


Let the Record Show (You're an Asshole Charlie Kelly)

by Steerpike_Jennkings



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: At this point dubious consent about everything, Dennis is a creep, Eventually bdsm and threesomes oh my, Honestly if you watch iasip then nothing should shock you, Lol I haven't written anything in forever so this is probably pretty subpar, M/M, Multi, This is kinda fucked up?, if i ever get that far like goddamn, if it’s not ok then it’s probably in here, non consensual drug use, non consensual voyerism, voyerism, warning: drug use (of course)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2019-10-25 00:01:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 54,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17714189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steerpike_Jennkings/pseuds/Steerpike_Jennkings
Summary: “Listen, Doc. I can call you Doc? Great. I would do anything just to be a little smarter. For my brain to work. If I could write and speak good, maybe I be president. Who knows?”“I guarantee you, that won’t be happening.” Snide bitch.Charlie just wants to be a little smarter, he has potential! You know? And things with Science Bitch are actually going great, until that bastard Dennis fucks it all up.





	1. "A Professor for The Professor"

**Author's Note:**

> Wanna listen to the playlist I created for this fic? [Here's the Youtube link](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLvajtsy-ZIfRnJDYaDMeiWv1F7m2ktIEx&disable_polymer=true) (8tracks version coming maybe later)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, tbh I was trying to save this story as a draft but haven't used Ao3 in so long accidentally posted the first chapters, so, let's roll with it. Hopefully, I can get the rest of this done soon then so I can post them in a good time frame.  
> Hope you enjoy, honestly, I have no excuse for this story other than this is a great way to waste time I should be using to work on college things.

* * *

 

Police academy was awesome. So awesome in fact the gang watched it twice that night at Dennis and Mac's’. Frank had fallen asleep halfway through the second run, while Dennis, Dee, Mac, and Charlie had each one by one drifted into a stupor from a combination of huffing gas and binging. It really was nights like these that made Charlie appreciate his friends.

All that shit he’d done this week, thinking he was smart ‘cause of some placenta pills? That shit was whack. And Charlie was man enough to admit he’d been a real dick. Being smart was overrated anyway. No one got cool friends like them from being “smart”.

But it would have been nice to read some books. Or write down his lyrics so his friends could sing them with him. Or even just say big words without getting them confused. Yeah. Maybe being kinda smart would have been nice.

Those thoughts followed him around the next day like a bad itch. He thought maybe he’d gotten lice from that cat in his experiment, but Frank wasn’t scratching up a storm so that wasn’t it. All morning as he hunted down that rat Dennis, Mac, and Dee had failed to kill, Charlie tried to think of all the smart things he could do. Spiders talking to cats? That was amateur. No, Charlie wanted to write poetry, discover ghouls, and build a rocket like that Ellen Munk guy.

 _But how? How could he get smart without placenta pills?_ He stood in the alley hosing his bashing bat off, having succeeded in mashing the little fat bastard. _Well_ , he pondered. _How do smart people get smart? They go to college._ Like they always say- Girls go to college to get more knowledge, boys go to Jupiter to get more stupider. And Charlie had seemingly spent all his life on Jupiter. He was ready to come back down to earth.

 

* * *

  

Honestly, the college was cool as shit. From the outside, it looked like Hogwarts or Down Town Abbey. Charlie had left to find those weird science guys at eleven and was still wandering the campus at one, enjoying the cool buildings and trees (but not too many) when a real nice lady cop came up to him.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“Yeah, actually.” Charlie looked around, having a hard time remembering what fancy building it was the science nerds used. “I’m looking for some science.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you a student?”

“No, mam. I was here for an experiment the other day. They like gave me pills to make me smart.”

Charlie had been around enough cops to know she didn’t believe him, which was really frustrating because for once he wasn’t lying to them. “The science guys!” He insisted. “One’s like Chinese, the other from England or something?”

She shook her head. “There are thousands of students here and hundreds of professors. You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

Charlie grumbled in frustration. He didn’t want to lose his cool because he could see the taser on her hip, and while being tased by a sexy cop did sound cool, he really wanted to be smart.

“Hey! Professor!” A kid yelled. Charlie didn’t turn around as he tried desperately to explain to this lady cop that he had to get smart, and the science bitches would help him! _What couldn’t she understand?_

But she was looking behind him, eyebrows scrunched together, completely ignoring his babbling. “You know him?”

Charlie turned, a tall broad-shouldered teenager smiling down at him. “Professor! What’s up my man!”

It took Charlie a moment to recognize the kid. “Richie?”

Fat Juggalo Richie, now without any face paint and down 200 lbs, was pulling Charlie into a rough, unwelcome, hug. “Oh man! Professor, it’s so great to see you!”

“I’m sorry,” the police lady interrupted. “Professor? You don’t teach here do you?”

“No!” Charlie was trying desperately not to yell, but failing. “I’m looking for scientists!”

Richie held Charlie trapped against his sweaty body, arm around his shoulders like a protective mama bird. _A big, fat, stupid bird. He and Dee’d be great friends_. “It’s alright, I’ll take him to the labs, make sure he finds out what he’s looking for!”

Lady cop looked unimpressed, and tired, which is probably why she let them go with a sigh. Richie walked along with a Charlie trapped beneath his wing.

“Oh man, it’s so great to see you!” Richie went on and on. “After you got fired my mom sent me to private school, and it changed my life! I started to go to church, I’ve lost all this weight, I’m going to Amsterdam next semester to study!”

“Yeah, I noticed you’re not wearing any weird or racist makeup anymore.”

Richie laughed, crushing Charlie deeper into his ribs. “Oh yeah, that chapters closed in my life. I’m just trying to move on! And it’s all thanks to you Professor!”

“Uh-huh.” Maybe being smart wasn’t Charlie’s thing, especially if people like Richie were part of the deal. “How far away is this science building?”

Richie let go and pointed to a large building, that was more windows than anything else, and Charlie realized why he’d been unable to remember or find it. It was the ugliest building, hands down, on the campus.

Richie slapped his back and began to back away. “Gotta go to football practice,” he explained. “Catch ya later Professor!”

“Yeah right,” Charlie muttered. He shook his head in disgust, glad to be rid of the kid. For god sakes, he’d turned from moron to smart person and look what it got him! A football scholarship, a Bible fetish, and no sense of originality. Talk about lame.

The inside of the science building was even uglier than the outside. All white and the windows let in an absolutely insane amount of sunlight that bounced around across all the shiny surfaces, nearly blinding him. But, it was amazingly clean and Charlie gave a thumbs up to the old janitor shuffling by with his cart. A different finger returned the gesture.

At last, after circling the building twice, he found a desk tucked in a corner with a stern looking lady who looked like a secretary. She was actively avoiding eye contact with him so he assumed that meant she was the one in charge of, well, something.

“Excuse me,” Charlie leaned across the desk like he’d seen Dennis do to impress unhappy looking women. A mug of pens toppled over, dumping its contents across her papers. Charlie stammered but decided it was best to press on and ignore it. “I’m looking for a scientist. Either Asian or British. Or both.”

She gave him a funny look and he read the metal thingy on her desk. “If you’d be so kind...uh…Braba. Lovely name, by the way.”

A flash of his best smile should win her over, but she only frowned more. “If you’re looking for a Brit, the only one we have is eating lunch right now. But he’s not Asian, is that all right?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, that’s fine. The British one will do. Where’s he at?”

“In his office.”

Charlie stood there, bouncing on his leg impatiently. He’d expected her to point somewhere or give him a number. “Well?”

She lazily pointed to the back of the hallway. “Fourth one to the right.”

Charlie took off, visualizing leaving his stupidity behind in the dust. This guy was gonna make him smart! And if he didn’t do it right this time he’d kick the science-bitches ass!

Swinging open the door, he found the room rather… boring. He’d expected science tubes bubbling and bizarre machines beeping, journals filled with mad ideas and failed experiments hanging on the walls like reminders of failure, and possibilities. Instead, it was white like the rest of the building. An oversized desk in an office smaller than even the bars, with only one bookshelf overflowing with papers and books. The scientist was hunched over his desk, fork and leafy greens midway to his mouth as he looked at Charlie in bug-eyed surprise.

“Mr. Kelly?”

Charlie didn’t waste any time, plopping down in the chair opposite science bitch. “I want to be smarter!”

The scientist placed his fork back into the bowl, looking in absolute disbelief at the idiot before him. “Mr. Kelly, I’m afraid that experiment-“

“I don’t want the pills!” he insisted, “I want you to teach me! I’ll even give back the constipation you were gonna give me!”

“Compensation,” the scientist corrected. _Smug bitch_. “And no, that’s your money. It would be unethical for us to take it back.”

“Listen, Doc. I can call you Doc? Great. I would do anything just to be a little smarter. For my brain to work. If I could write and speak good, maybe I be president. Who knows?”

“I guarantee you, that won’t be happening.” _Snide bitch_.

“Ok, but I really wanna know words, and like-like, I wanna write fancy. And be like Munk!”

“Monk? Like the detective series?”

“No! Well, maybe him too. But the cars and mars guy. Him!”

“Elon Musk?”

“Yes!” Charlie was so excited to be understood he jumped from his seat. “Fix my brain!”

Charlie ran around the desk and science pussy skittered back until his chair hit the bookshelf, a pile of papers falling to the floor. Charlie fell on his knees, which really hurt on the white tile, clasping his hands together like Mac on a Sunday after watching the volleyball scene from Top Gun. This was his plea, his prayer to any God and any dead science bitches who would hear him; This was humiliating, and if any of the gang saw him now they’d never let him live it down. But without hesitation, he whined his least favorite word: “ _Please_!”

The scientist eyed him, and for once Charlie had a hard time reading someone. _Skepticism? Fear? Disgust? Annoyance? All of the above?_

Then, he reached out and patted Charlie’s arm uncomfortably. “Alright, Alright, just please get off the floor.”

Charlie did as told, quickly scampering back into his abandoned chair. “Sweet! Right Doc, lay it on me! How do I get this ticker ticking!”

There seemed to be an eye roll, but it was so small Charlie could barely tell. He looked about his office, searching for something, anything, to get rid of the loon currently interrupting his only free hour of the day. Then, he spotted it. A novel he’d always been fond of and would no doubt get rid of Mr. Kelly indefinitely.

“I’d like you to read this book.” The scientist handed over the remnants of a book that had been read so often, its pages so thoroughly noted and dog tagged, that it almost pained him giving it away. Almost. He was eager to buy a new copy that hadn’t been so overly loved by himself and previous owners.

“ _The Buddha of Serbia,”_ Charlie read in a (un)flattering mockery of the scientist's accent.

“The Buddha of _Suburbia_ ,” he corrected, kindly. “It’s a wonderful story about life in England during the 70s and 80s. I think you’ll like it. It’s quite raunchy.”

“Roachy huh? You know you can get rid of those with some salt?”

“Yes, well.” Science bitch clapped his hands together as if to will Charlie away. “Read that, when you’re finished come back and we can begin your lessons.”

Charlie leapt to his feet, clutching the tattered book to his chest like a cherished newborn. “I won’t let you down Doc!”

 

* * *

 

Charlie had never read something so intensely in his entire life. He devoured every page as if his life depended on it, even though he had to read everything two, three, four times for it to make sense. He’d driven the gang nuts for days, asking bizarre questions about London, Muslims, Indians, WWII and the pronunciation of nearly every other word. By the end, Frank had kicked him out of the apartment, Dennis had nearly strangled him, Mac had disavowed him and the ‘homosexual anti-American filth’, and Dee had fled the room each time he entered the bar. For days, the slim paperback was always on him. If it wasn’t open in his hands it was stuffed into his pockets, tucked under his arm, or held against his chest defensively.

It was the dirtiest thing he’d ever read, and he had no idea books could be filled with such accounts of sex, drugs, and dirty words. Cunt! The entire book was filled with cunts and balls and pricks and tits and slurs so foul Charlie couldn’t even read them out loud! He really like the main kid to. He liked his music taste and the way he bitched about his family and how he didn’t know what to do with his life. He loved every single one of its filthy horrible wonderful pages.

A week later, he returned to the university and threw the book down in front of the scientists salad with enough force to send a pencil flying across the room. He blinked up sat Charlie in disbelief.

“You read it?”

Charlie nodded. The scientist lowered his fork.

“Did you like it?”

Charlie nodded again, this time beaming. “I had no idea books could be so-“ he waved his hands in search of the word. “Gross!”

Science Bitch laughed at that. “Yes, I suppose it could be considered that.”

“I like the part with the dildo.”

Science Bitch really laughed at that. “Yes, that’s one of the most entertaining portions of the book. I agree. What did you think of our titular character?”

“Which one? There were lots of tits?” Charlie sat himself in the chair again, feeling for once in his life smart enough to discuss literature.

“No, I mean the father.”

“Oh! He’s an asshole, yeah.”

“Really?” The scientist seemed genuinely surprised by this notion. “Why?”

“Well, he’s obviously a nars-narssse-narsimm-“ Charlie was panicking. _He knew this word! Fuck! He knew it!_

“Narcissist?” Science Bitch offered.

Charlie snapped in sudden realization. “Yeah! That! Leaving his kids and wife like that for that one-boobed slut? Making his kids call him ‘God’? What the hell is that all about?”

The look on Science Bitch’s face was almost funny, the way his eyes were crinkled and his lips pursed like he’d eaten the lemon in his salad. Charlie snickered at him. “What?”

Science Bitch rocked his chair a moment in thought. “I think you missed some of the themes, but I’m glad you enjoyed it. And, a promise is a promise.”

 _Themes?_ Charlie raked his brain. _What themes?_ But he was drawn back at the realization of Science Bitch’s last point.

“You’ll teach me? Really?!”

Science Bitch smiled, though Charlie was unsure if it was genuine. “It may make an interesting research paper.”


	2. "Charlie has a Breakdown"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank saved Charlie from finishing his sentence. “Maybe it’s a fetish thing?”
> 
> Mac pointed to Frank, nearly knocking Dee off her stool with its force. “That’s it! That’s gotta be! He wants to fuck Charlie because he’s gross or something! Probably wants you to pee on him or something!”
> 
> “Or him to pee on you,” Dennis seemed to trail off into deep thought. “Yeah, yeah okay I can see that. Like a power thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna listen to the playlist I created for this fic? [Here's the Youtube link](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLvajtsy-ZIfRnJDYaDMeiWv1F7m2ktIEx&disable_polymer=true) (8tracks version coming maybe later)

* * *

 

 _Saturdays at 5. Saturdays at 5. Saturdays,_ Charlie repeated so he’d never, ever forget _, at 5!_

He was counting his steps now, each stair that led up to Science Bitch’s apartment, memorizing this time, this day, and this place so he could come here and get smart. This was his ritual when coming to class.

And he was failing.

Science Bitch had been trying so, _so goddamn hard,_ to make Charlie’s brain work. And they were both frustrated at the lack of progress. This was their fifth week, and Charlie felt like he rather be anywhere, specifically the sewers, then wasting their time at Science Bitch’s apartment.

“Good evening Charles,” Doc greeted like he always did when Charlie let himself in. “Homework?”

Charlie reluctantly handed over the unfinished illegible papers. At least his name was spelled right, except for the backward ‘K’. But, the Doc kept his opinions to himself, no doubt wishing he’d turned Charlie away to enjoy his weekends doing better, smarter things.

“Rome wasn’t built in a day,” he said with a smile. Charlie couldn’t make heads or tails if it was condensing-no, wait that wasn’t it. Condensing? Compressing? Conde-sending… condescending!

“No, but it fell apart in one.”

“Very good Charles! At least your history is sticking.” Science Bitch tossed the papers onto his coffee table and clapped his hands together, preparing another lesson in his mind. “I was thinking today we discuss basic mathematics. As I recall you had some difficulty there, yes?”

A reluctant nod, though Charlie’s eyes were on the ceiling now. Unlike his apartment, there were no mystery stains or leaky goo or mold. It was a crisp and perfect shade of white. Charlie thought it lacked personality.

Science Bitch talked on, explaining numbers and multiplication principles, watching Charlie with those beady, judgmental eyes. Finally, Charlie couldn’t take it anymore.

“I can’t do this, man!” Charlie screeched, hands balling into his hair in frustration. “This all sucks! I was happier when I was dumb and happy! Now I’m just dumb and miserable and I’m never going to be smart so why don’t you just fail me and get it over with!”

The Doc stood silently, listening to Charlie ramble, and shockingly did not look surprised at the sudden outrage, but furious. When he had finished, he straightened from his usual hunch, easily gaining an extra two inches over Charlie.

  
“Mr. Kelley,” he began slowly, burning lasers into Charlie’s face. “I am not failing you. You are showing progress, however limited and slow and frustrating as it may be to both you and I, I refuse, _refuse!_ To allow that sort of talk while I am tutoring you. Am I perfectly clear?”

Charlie signed, feeling even worse than before. “So I’m still slow?”

“Tortoises and hares Charles, you’re far better than you were five weeks ago.”

Still unconvinced, Charlie crossed his arms in defiance, though remained silent.

Realizing this was going nowhere, Doc threw his arms in the air. “Fine, we’re going to learn something you want to learn. Any ideas?”

And he had one. One he’d kept his mouth shut about it all these weeks because he feared Science Bitch would tell him his only skill, the only thing he _really_ did well at in life, was a waste of time and effort. “Anything?”

Doc nodded.

“I want to learn how to write music.”

Science Bitch looked baffled, one of the few looks Charlie could recognize on him. “Sheet music?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you play?”

Charlie scoffed, “Do I play?” trying to come off as arrogant but his insecurity was transparent under scrutinizing eyes.

“What instrument?”

“Keyboard mostly, harmonica, some guitar.”

Now the nosy bitch really looked confused. “How did you learn to play if you can’t read the music?”

“It’s a natural gift…” now here’s where Charlie starts to internally freak out. His music, that’s the only talent he had to be proud of. Science Bitch could shoot him down. Tell him it’s trash. The gang never liked his songs, but they were assholes who had no taste. Science Bitch had taste, and if he thought it sucked too it was game over.

“I’d love to hear it.”

 

* * *

 

The gang looked at Charlie as if he had suddenly sprouted a tail, mouths open in shock and disbelief. There was their Charlie, _their_ dirtgrub, writing his shitty songs down with a renewed passionate obsession. Unlike writing words, writing music had clicked almost instantly. The Doc taught him all the different notes and they went to a music shop where he bought Charlie stacks of blank sheet music and guidebooks to help remember what all the different symbols meant. He’d spent days scribbling down his best songs and working on something special for Science Bitch. And when he sang his newest creation to the gang, they weren’t sure what the hell to make of it.

“That’s fucking gay!” Mac announced as if it wasn’t obvious to the rest of the gang.

“It is not!” Charlie insisted, clutching his handwritten sheet music to his chest. “It’s a song about science and bros. Like Pluto and Aristotle!”

“It’s Plato, first off,” Dennis corrected with his usual smugness, “And both those guys were gay. Like really gay.”

Charlie’s face scrunched in denial. “What? No man. Plato and Aristotle were like these two bros, and Plato taught Aristotle how to think. Like Doc is teaching me.”

“Teaching you to be gay!” Dee chimed in, earning a round of high fives.

Frank looked miserable about the whole situation, perched on his bar stool in front of Dee. “I don’t like it Charlie!” He looked to the others for support. “All this reading and writing! You haven’t gone to the sewers with me in weeks!”

“That’s probably a good thing,” Mac chimed in. “But I agree, yeah, Charlie that Science Bitch is gonna try to fuck you. There’s no other reason for him to be teaching you.”

“I’m with Frank and Mac,” Dee agreed. “Totally gay.”

“Now wait a minute,” and Dennis was the last person Charlie expected to come to his defense, but there he was. “We have to remember, this is Charlie. Why would a handsome successful scientist, working for the most prestigious college in Philadelphia, and sporting a sexy accent, want to sleep with-“ he gestured vaguely to all of Charlie. “It just doesn’t make sense!”

“Yeah, I agree. I’m on Dennis’s side now.” Dee looked over Charlie as if instantly recognizing it was, indeed, him. The embodiment of filth.

“Now wait a minute, I’m not _that_ bad! He could want to sleep with me!”

Mac looked confused. “Do you want him to sleep with you?”

“No! That’s- that’s-“ Charlie hadn’t even thought about this seriously before. What if he did want to sleep with Charlie? Could he turn him down? Would Doc even keep teaching him if he said no?

Frank saved Charlie from finishing his sentence. “Maybe it’s a fetish thing?”

Mac pointed to Frank, nearly knocking Dee off her stool with its force. “That’s it! That’s gotta be! He wants to fuck Charlie _because_ he’s gross or something! Probably wants you to pee on him or something!”

“Or him to pee on you,” Dennis seemed to trail off into deep thought. “Yeah, yeah okay I can see that. Like a power thing.”

Dee shook her head. “There are so many hot young desperate students at that college who probably need to pass, I’m sure he has no issue getting them to do that shit.”

“Stop! Okay?” Charlie screeched in frustration. “He’s not going to pee on me, alright? There will be no pee involved. I’m going to sing him my science bro song, then he’s gonna help me write down lyrics. That’s it!”

The gang all shook their heads solemnly at their poor, naive Charlie.

“Listen, Charlie, I guarantee this is how it’s going to go.” Dennis held his arms up as he spoke, speaking to his people, though only Mac seemed to be listening with any positive interest.

“You’ll arrive at the apartment, probably late, and Science Bitch will offer you a glass of fancy booze as you set up your keyboard. Probably French wine or expensive scotch. You’ll start to play and he’ll interrupt you,

‘ _Charlie_ ,’ he’ll say. ‘ _The acoustics in here are awful. Let’s move to the bedroom where it’ll sound better.’_

You will reluctantly agree, and Science Bitch will ask you to play as he sits on his bed. As you do he listens and tells you that crap song was the most wonderful thing he’s heard! He’ll then invite you to sit beside him. ‘ _Oh Charlie, you really ought to see how soft this bed is!’_

Then, he’ll make his move.”

“What’s he do?” Mac asks in a shallow whisper, though Dennis ignores him to watch Charlie squirm.

“Nah man. That’s just not gonna happen!”

But that fear gnawed at Charlie’s insides the whole way over the Science Bitch’s apartment. As he counted the stairs, his heart pounded so violently in his chest, he nearly expected it to burst from it. He didn’t want to be paranoid, but why? Why was Science Bitch helping him? What did he want in return? _Oh god, did he want his body? To pee on him or something equally as sick and weird?_

He felt sick as he entered the apartment, Doc sitting on his couch as always. “Evening Charles.”

Charlie could only nod, some high-pitched noise escaping his throat when he tried to speak.

“Are you alright?” And was it that obvious? He knew he was sweating, his whole body stiff as he tried to set up the keyboard, but he thought Doc wouldn’t notice as long as he kept his eyes on everything but him. It landed on the worst thing possible. A glass of wine in Science Bitch’s hand.

“Charles? You look rather ill…” Science Bitch stood, setting the offending glass on his coffee table, and Charlie quickly composed himself as best he could.

“I’m great. Just ugh, just a little high.” It wasn’t a lie. He had taken a few huffs of the paint thinner Dennis kept behind the counter. Science Bitch was unreadable, again. _I hate that._

“Hate what?” He asked, and Charlie quickly waved him off.

“Nothing man, ugh, here-“ he pulled his crumpled collection of handwritten music from his pocket and thrust it at Docs chest. The guy didn’t stumble back as Charlie had expected. He was a lot stronger than Charlie thought, which only added to his anxieties. “I wanna write the lyrics down right, I was hoping you could help me with that?”

“Yes of, course.” The scientist carefully set them on his table and walked past Charlie to finish setting up. “Would you like something to drink? A glass of water perhaps?”

His voice stuck in his throat as he tried to speak, eyeing the glass of wine as though it may suddenly come sailing at his head. “You got some fancy French wine?”

He could hear Doc laugh from his kitchen. Deep and short, like he always laughed at Charlie. “Afraid not,” he called back. “Besides, you probably shouldn’t mix alcohol and whatever you’re on.”

“Just pot.” Charlie lied. God knows he didn’t want Science Bitch thinking he was too out of it.

When he returned, Charlie felt a little relieved. No fancy booze. Not even a proper offer. Dennis was wrong so far. But, Science Bitch grabbed his papers and glass from the table and turned to Charlie. “The acoustics in here are awful, let’s move.”

Charlie knew he’d gone white, every once of blood draining from his face to his heart, ready to burst from his chest at any moment. He couldn’t take it, he felt the world closing in on him, the walls seeming to narrow, his heart constricting as if a python has slithered around it and in one go was squeezing it to death. He really shouldn’t have gotten high before this.

“ _Charlie? Charlie?_ ” The Science Bitch was touching him now. Touching his face and holding him against his chest. _Oh fuck, oh fuck!_ Charlie couldn’t move. He felt like he’d fallen off a building and was still heading towards the ground. It wasn’t until he felt hands pushing him onto the couch that Charlie really started panicking. _This was it. He didn’t want it. Had he been drugged? Was this bitch gonna rape him?!_

“ _Stop! Stop I don’t want to! Stop!_ ” He was screaming, kicking, and trying to get himself back up, but he couldn’t keep it up. His head was too light and his brain, _that stupid fucking brain of his,_ wasn’t working fast enough to get out of this. Arms were holding him down and Charlie couldn’t get out of them. Like some sort of demented octopus was clinging to his entire body, he couldn’t escape. Through the panic and the struggle, he hadn’t realized he’d started sobbing, and the arms let go.

Charlie couldn’t move. He was babbling in between breaths. _“Don’t pee on me, please! For fuck's sake, don’t!”_

“Charlie!” He froze, eyes opening to see Science Bitch towering over him, and Charlie had no idea how to read this expression. It wasn’t twisted into some triumphant sick look, but looked… afraid. Really fucking scared. Like Charlie had somehow hurt him and not the other way around. “What on earth did you take?!”

And Charlie couldn’t help it. He broke down again, rambling about how Dennis had told him this would happen. How he told Charlie Science Bitch would try to fuck him and how he’d been so worried about it he’d gotten sick and had spent his afternoon huffing to calm himself down, but whatever that paint thinner was it was some strong shit! And how Mac and Frank knew Science Bitch was into some sick shit and was going to force Charlie to drink his pee or something worse and Charlie just couldn’t take it! He couldn’t take it anymore and he didn’t want to be smart bad enough to drink piss!

The scientist stayed silent, mouth going slack as Charlie went on and on between sobs, before he finally ran out and it was all dry heaves and his voice wrecked. He stayed silent, waiting for Charlie to compose himself and sit up. He stayed silent until finally, Charlie couldn’t take it anymore.

“Say something!”

“That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

Charlie was now the one struck dumb. “What?”

“The fact anyone would even imply-“ the scientist stammered. He seemed like he wanted to sit down, but not next to Charlie. “Charlie, I can assure you I don’t want to sleep with you, or-“ he paused, uncomfortable even finishing the thought, “or anything like that.”

“Oh,” Charlie sighed in relief. _Science Bitch didn’t want to sleep with him. Fantastic. Oh, thank fuck. Thank fuck!_ It was like the world that had swallowed him up had suddenly spit him back out. He was alive. He was fine. Though a small, nagging feeling lingered in that relief. _Why the fuck not?_

“Perhaps we should get you some fresh air.”

It was all pretty awkward, and Charlie was tempted to just take off running and never look back. They’d gone for a walk, Charlie still twitchy from the breakdown and high as a kite. Silence followed the whole time, Charlie just following alongside Doc, as he seemed to know where he was going. It was supposed to be relaxing and help Charlie clear his head, but it just made his feet ache and his head throb coming down to the ground. The worst part was he didn’t even get to play his song.

Fuck it was cold out. And the Doc walked way too fast for a short legged guy like Charlie. And it was already dark out and this really was a sketchy part of Philly. Being from London or whatever, maybe the Doc didn’t know? Should he tell him? Or maybe he came from one of those rougher parts of London like Terry from that book? Oh shit, did Doc know how to knife fight? Or was part of a London gang? Oh that’d be so cool!

“-you agree?”

“Hmm?” Charlie hasn’t been listening, hadn’t even realized Doc had been talking.

“I said I felt like a cup of coffee.”

“Oh yeah, sure.” Charlie didn’t want to say he hated coffee, but he followed Science Bitch into- _oh shit_.

“Hey Doc,” Charlie pulled him back towards the door. “I don’t really like this place, let’s go somewhere else.”

“It’s fine Charles, I come here every morning. Besides, the only other shops another four blocks. What do you want?”

He must’ve looked insane, doing Mac’s stupid ‘ocular pat downs’ of the room. But, it was past her shift. She was probably already home, eating her Chinese takeout like she always did on Saturdays. “Yeah, uh, whatever Doc. Something hot. I’ll go get a table.”

Charlie wanted to stay unnoticed. Even if she wasn’t here, her manager or the other baristas might recognize him. He chose a table in the far corner. The one he always sat at.

From there he could see the whole café. It was a lot nicer than the last coffee shop she worked at. It was a chain, and the pay wasn’t shit, but the inside of it was decked out in warm browns and greys like you were sitting in a latte or something.  Plus he liked the uniforms here. Cute green aprons and matching baseball caps, and she always wore t-shirts under hers that made her look like a baseball empire.

From his usual seat, he could watch the register and the doors, making it easy to leave if he ever got caught. Which he usually did. But tonight he watched Doc struggling to count his American coins, the guy behind the counter trying to help by demanding a twenty so he could just give him back change instead. The poor Doc fell for it.

“How long have you been here man?” Charlie asked when he came back, struggling to shrug off his heavy wool coat.

Science Bitch shrugged. “Oh, let’s see. Around a year? First time living stateside. I was in Canada teaching before this.”

“That must’ve sucked.” Charlie was struggling to keep his head down, praying her co-workers wouldn’t know him. The Doc seemed unaware.

“Oh no, it was actually quite lovely. But, the university offered me a higher salary and Philly’s living expenses were less substantial than London or Quebec. So here I am.”

“Uh huh.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you from Philadelphia?”

Charlie seemed confused by the question. “Of course I’m from Philly. Lived here my whole life.”

“What about your parents?”

“What is this?” Charlie threw his hands up. “Are you interrogating me? Am I a suspect?”

Science Bitch shrugged. “Never mind then. We will sit in silence if you prefer.”

“Yeah, I do prefer that. Thanks.”

Science Bitch pursed his lips like he often did when Charlie said something _really_ stupid _._ But, he didn’t say anything. And Charlie could keep his head down so no one would see him.

When their drinks were called, Science Bitch went to fetch them because Charlie sure as hell wasn't going to go up there. No sir. If he stayed here she wouldn’t know he’s been here and-

“Charlie, what are you doing?”

_Keep your head down. She’ll think she made a mistake._

“Charlie I can see you.”

He gave in and looked up. She was in her green apron again, but the hat was tucked into its pocket. And she had the same pursed lip that Science Bitch had minutes ago. “Oh, hey.”

“The restraining order is still up. You need to leave, or I’m calling the cops.”

The Waitress was serious tonight. He hadn’t followed her today to know what had happened, but she looked pissed and she was working late. That meant something had probably happened to her car, which sucked because Charlie knew she worked really hard all last year to afford it. He’d been forced to stalk her overtime, so he knew just how many hours it had taken.

“Okay, just, I’m waiting for my friend. We’ll leave when he gets back.”

“No, you’re leaving now. Frank or Mac or whoever the hell is here can meet you back at the bar.”

“Is there a problem?” _Fuck._

“Yes,” Waitress turned to Science Bitch, seemingly expecting him to be her knight in shining armor. “I have a restraining order against him, and he won’t leave.”

Any other sane man who did not hang around with Charlie Kelly would have immediately threatened to call the cops, or even throw him out of the coffee shop themselves. Especially for Waitress who smiled at most handsome looking fellows like she was smiling at Science Bitch, with genuine interest. A look Charlie had only gotten a glance of when it was directed at others.

Science Bitch seemed unfazed by Waitress’s bright eyes and perfect smile, as he looked to Charlie with his own bright wide eyes. “A restraining order? Charles, is that true?”

Her smile vanished, and she looked between Charlie and Doc in half-shock, half annoyance. “Wait, who the hell is this?”

Charlie groaned as he stood, hands raised in defense because she’d hit him before when she was pissed. And she looked pretty pissed. “He’s my professor. He’s teaching me to be smarter.”

“You tried that already. Remember? It didn’t work and you called me a moronic self-absorbed piece of work and that you could do better.”

Charlie nodded, remembering the incident vividly. “Yeah, yeah I did say that.”

“If I may,” Science Bitch interjected. “I was involved in that experiment and realize it is of little comfort, but much of Charles’s arrogance came from the ability to finally reject aspects of his life he had little control of before. Thing like work, friendships, and romantic interests. It was a psychological effect that, in reality, did not represent his true feelings of you, but rather simply being granted the ability to reject you.”

Charlie raised his hands towards Science Bitch, his new wingman, in triumph. “What he said!”

“Get out. Both of you.”

The walk back to Docs apartment wasn’t as bad as the walk from, especially with a warm cup of scalding hot chocolate laced between his fingers. Doc seemed to preferred the silent game, and Charlie didn’t mind it. It was comfortable to walk like this for a while. But he’d been a twitch jackass all night, and he’d have to remember that paint thinner behind the bar needed fewer huffs to get where he wanted to go.

“My whole family is from here.”

“Hmm?”

“My family. At least my mom's side.” Charlie repeated, glancing to Doc.

He kept his eyes straight ahead. “Have you ever been outside of Philly?”

Charlie chuckled, “Yeah.” But, he didn’t want to get into the whole discussion about what it takes to get him to leave.

At the apartment, Charlie had expected to say goodbye and head back home, leaving today’s mess behind. There was a hesitation though, as his keyboard was still upstairs and it would be a whole week before he could get his stuff back. But, he didn't speak. Charlie just followed Science Bitch up the stairs; _1,2,3,4…_

He wasn’t telling Charlie to go away, or come get his things tomorrow. He acted as though Charlie coming upstairs this late was just expected. Like he was more than welcome to do so. And when he reached the door he actually smiled at Charlie.

“If it’s not too late, I’d still like to hear your songs and help write down some lyrics.”

“That’d be great.”

Maneuvering his abandoned keyboard to the couch, Charlie sat down and adjusted its height. Science Bitch took a seat on beside him, with Charlie’s sheet music and a pen ready to transcribe. “Ready whenever you are.”

So, Charlie started off with his favorite.

 

 


	3. "The Gang has a Plan"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sudden realization settled on the gang. Dennis stood to his full height. Sunday mornings were Charlie’s busiest days. The start of the week for the entire bar. He’d take all the towels to the laundromat. Bring in new bags of ice. Refill the taps. And it was Sunday. And Charlie wasn’t here.
> 
> Voices raised, fingers pointing at one another, trying to be heard above the rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I probably should give a fair warning: I have never finished a single fanfiction that I've started, but hopefully, this one will be different. Wish me luck, Chapter 4's pretty much done anyway. But god knows how far I'll go.
> 
> Wanna listen to the playlist I created for this fic? [Here's the Youtube link](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLvajtsy-ZIfRnJDYaDMeiWv1F7m2ktIEx&disable_polymer=true) (8tracks version coming maybe later)

* * *

 

“Science Bitch fucked Charlie,” Frank announced as he entered the bar Sunday morning. “Didn’t come home last night.”

Behind the bar, Dennis tilted his head with a half-assed look of pity. “Poor guy, if only he’d listened to me.”

“No.” Mac insisted. “No, that is not true. If Charlie was gay, I’d know it.”

Dee rolled her eyes, meeting Dennis’s. They both shared the same thought.

“We gotta do something about this!” Frank insisted.

“Frank, it’s already a done deal.” Dennis was bending over, searching for something beneath the bar.  “He’s manipulating Charlie. Guys like us, we get bored easily. If he’s not done with Charlie now, he will be soon.”

“Guys like us?” Dee repeated, only to be ignored.

“I agree with Frank!” Mac chimed in. “If he’s trying to turn Charlie gay, we gotta stop him. Or else God will give him AIDS.”

“You are so far off the mark there buddy.” Dennis was shouting now, his whole body gone beneath the bar. “Where the hell are all the towels!?”

A sudden realization settled on the gang. Dennis stood to his full height. Sunday mornings were Charlie’s busiest days. The start of the week for the entire bar. He’d take all the towels to the laundromat. Bring in new bags of ice. Refill the taps. And it was Sunday. And Charlie wasn’t here.

Voices raised, fingers pointing at one another, trying to be heard above the rest.

“I’m not doing Charlie Work!”

“Well I’m not gonna do it!”

“Why not? It’s your bar!”

“It’s your bar too!”

Finally, above them, (literally, as he had crawled with some difficulty from his stool to the top of the bar) Franks' voice boomed over the rest. “Don’t you see what this means!”

Mac, Dennis, and Dee stood in bewilderment as Frank raised his arms, as though he were some deformed messiah here to solve their problems. “We gotta get Charlie away from Science Bitch!”

“Yeah, and exactly how are we gonna do that?” Dennis scoffed, though he lacked another solution.

Frank, lifting a fat finger to his temple, tapped it thrice. “I have a plan.”

 

* * *

 

Waking up in strange places isn’t abnormal for Charlie, but he was happy to find this strange place was neither a stranger or the worst place he’d slept. The crisp white ceiling was ugly, but he recognized it instantly.

“Doc?”

The apartment stayed quiet, the only sounds coming from traffic outside.

Charlie stretched his legs and arms before sitting up, running a hand through his beard to loosen his memory of last night. Science Bitch and he had been working on music, Charlie playing different songs and Doc writing down the words on sheet music. Sheet music that was now neatly stacked on the coffee table before him, tape recorder placed on top.

Charlie didn’t remember falling asleep, but he vaguely remembered Doc saying he was going to bed, and for Charlie to lock up when he left. Apparently, he never did.

Pressing the play button on the device, Charlie listened.

 _“Charles, I didn’t want to wake you, but I have a meeting today. I’ve made coffee, help yourself to anything you like in the kitchen. The key is next to the pot, please lock up when you go and place it under the front mat.”_ The message played white noise for awhile, and Charlie nearly shut it off, but the scientist returned. His voice less official and more genuine:

_“Thanks, last night was a lot of fun. If you like we can work on your music again next week.”_

Charlie let the tape continue into the next recording.

 _“Hey, listen to this man,”_ it was Charlie’s voice, the keyboard playing a song he hadn’t written, but one of the many he’d memorized. _“Ground control to major Tom,”_

Behind the singing and keyboard, Charlie could faintly hear Doc saying _“Oh I love this song.”_

_“Commencing countdown, engines on. Check ignition, and May God’s love be with you,”_

Then, to Charlie’s shock, it wasn’t just him singing.

 _“This is ground control to major Tom,”_ and holy fuck, science bitch had a good voice. Even Charlie on the record took note, adding in _“Yeah man, get into it!”_

_“And I’m floating in a most peculiar way!”_

Charlie shut it off, quickly pocketing it. He wasn’t sure why he’d done either, but he just wanted it off, and he didn’t dare leave it here.

Eating handfuls of some fancy tasteless cereal straight from the box, Charlie took a tour of the apartment now that he was alone. It felt invasive and wrong, and Charlie kinda liked that. He’d been trusted to stay here unsupervised, which even Charlie recognized as a risky move, and it may be the only time he could ever get this opportunity.

He traveled from room to room, admiring postcards stuck to the wall, framed degrees, and graduation photos with goofy British robes. What few personal items he owned seemed to be placed in very specific spots. University and science achievements on one wall, travel souvenirs on a certain shelf, and everything just had a place. Charlie liked that.

Then he glanced into the bedroom. It was simple. A bed, a dresser, a nightstand. And not much else. Charlie krept in, feeling as though any second Doc could come home and catch him. That perhaps this had all been an elaborate trap and he’d be waiting behind the door to leap out. But there was nothing except the distant car alarm on the streets below.

Charlie sat on the bed. The only thing he wanted to know about this room. Dennis was right in his fantasy. The bed was soft. Charlie felt like he was sinking into it. It was swallowing his hands and ass, like a welcoming embrace. He jumped up, fearing it would cling to him like a rat to a glue trap. A fly to a spiders web. He liked it, but not enough to linger. It was time to go.

He grabbed his music, his keyboard, and Science Bitch’s key. Just as asked, he locked the door behind him and out of habit, and mind stuck on other matters, he slipped the key into his pocket.

 

* * *

 

Coming into work late was just something he’d never done, especially on his busy day, but apparently, he wasn’t too late because the rest of the gang were nowhere to be seen. Charlie headed to the back, rifling through the desk drawers and stealing Dennis’s headphones from his Walkman. They would be missed, but he’d bring them back.

Grabbing the laundry bag from the corner of the office where he’d left it last night before leaving for Doc’s, he hit play on the tape recorder and headed to the laundromat.

 _“Science bros, they do you right.”_ Recorder Charlie sang. Current Charlie noted his pitch was too high and a little shaken, but last night was pretty stressful so - made sense. _“They, help you out and teach you life.”_

He remembered this. The first song he sang to Doc. The one he wrote for him. And how Doc had remained absolutely still, scribbling the lyrics down with only the most precise, tiny movements. Charlie remembered the way he’d questioned if Doc liked it. Still did. He couldn’t read the guy worth a shit.

 _“You wanna know ‘bout air planes? The Wright bros taught us flight!”_ Charlie had sped it up now, his fingers striking the keys with precision. “ _Socrates taught Plato, Plato taught Aristotle. Man those Greek bros were tight!”_

_“Science bros sooth your soul! Oh, Science bros fill a hole!”_

Charlie could hear a snicker over the music. By this point, he had been so absorbed that he didn’t notice it at the time, but know he heard it like it was the only thing to hear. He played the tape back, and clear as day, Doc had snickered at his lyrics. A sharp pain stung in his chest and he yanked the earphones off, letting the tape run with no ears to hear it.

_Stupid science bitch. Doesn’t know what good music is anyway._

“What’s he doing?” Frank asked as Charlie disappeared into the laundromat.

“What’s it look like he’s doing Frank? Charlie Work!” Dennis was growing frustrated. They’d been following Charlie since he left Science Bitch’s apartment and nothing had happened. He was late, but he was still doing Charlie Work so why did they need to sabotage Science Bitch anyway?

“That’s how it starts!” Frank explained to the three of them. “First he’s late for work, then he doesn’t come! If he gets too smart he’ll stop doing Charlie Work, just like last time!”

Dennis disagreed. No, this guy was gonna use Charlie for some sweet sadistic sex, then toss him back to the gang where they’d be waiting with open arms and a mop. Dennis knew the type. And he knew this ‘fling’ would run its course in due time. Everything they did in between was a waste.

“Wonder what he’s listening to,” Mac thought aloud. “With your headphones dude.”

Now, he was stuck with Mac, Dee, and Frank, who was currently stinking up his car with some disgusting resemblance of food in his greasy palms, acting out some half cooked unnecessary scheme. He needed to turn this around, somehow. Get something out of it.

“Oh! Oh, here he comes!” Dee’s shrill voice squeaked into Dennis’s ear nearly an hour later. He’d formulated a plan, one that would easily mold into Frank’s and was far more beneficial.

“C’mon Dennis!” Mac jeered, “He’s heading back to the bar! Let’s go!”

 

* * *

 

On his way back to the bar Charlie picked up two bags of ice, carrying the wet freezing plastic on one shoulder and the bulging bag of now clean towels over the other. No one was there to help him with the door, and no one was there to yell at him for sneaking a bottle for himself.

As he emptied the ice bags and tossed the towels back beneath the bar, he found silence alone was not as comforting as it had been with Doc the night before, and he was curious as to what part the recording had reached. He decided to give the tape another go, slipping his headphones back on to whatever point fate had chosen.

 _“No, of course not!”_ The Doc laughed between breaths.

_“Well, you must have thought about it!”_

Charlie didn’t know what part of the night this was, but it seemed caffeine was still fresh in their systems.

_“I have never, nor will ever.”_

Charlie wished he could remember what they were talking about, but at the same time had no desire to rewind the tape to find out. The mystery, this minute of his life that was unknown, was interesting for that reason. What had he asked that made Doc laugh so happily? What had he never done?

 _“It’s alright,”_ tape Charlie assured. _“It’s not for everyone, but I’d like to try it. Hey! What if me and you-“_

_“You and I,”_

_“That’s what I said, me and you did it? Ya’know? Like we could go tomorrow and you-“_

Charlie had been clinging to every word he’d been saying, desperate to know what he had been trying to ask Doc to do! What his answer had been! And it had all been yanked away by Dennis! _That bastard. That fucking bastard._

“What the fuck!” Charlie tried to get the headphones back, he needed to know! Whatever the gang wanted could wait! But Dennis held them up, far too high for Charlie to reach, yanking the cord from Charlie’s pocket and pulling the tape recorder loose as well. Its plastic shell fell to the floor with a crack, and Charlie knew by the sound alone it had broken.

Frank and Dennis were talking, but Charlie wasn’t listening. He was screaming. He wasn’t sure if he was even forming words. All he could see were the bits of black plastic scattered across the floor, and he plucked the tape from the carriage before it could be destroyed too.

“Charlie!” Four voices were yelling over him, and he finally gave in, holding his hands up in surrender.

“What! What! _What_!”

Frank and Dennis stood together in front of him, Mac and Dee not far behind. He took a breath, trying to seem some level of calm, though he was furious.

“We gotta talk.” Frank looked as though someone had died, and Charlie didn’t believe it for a second because Dennis and Dee were smirking. Like their kid brother had finally gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar and he was about to get it.

“Listen, I don’t have time for this!” Doing his best to avoid whatever _this_ was, he slipped his hand into his pocket to ensure the tape was safe. He needed to find out what else was on it.

But, something else pressed against his knuckles. Cold and hard. He plucked it from his pocket and, _well shit._

 _That stupid key._ Charlie didn’t mean to take it. Force of habit.

The gang seemed to read the look of confusion and sudden relief on Charlie’s face.

“What?” Frank squawked.

He held it up, as if to prove he really didn’t have time for this. _See? See!? I have somewhere else to be!_

“I accidentally took Doc’s key, shit. I gotta get this back! He’s locked out of his apartment.”

Before Charlie could push through the crowd, Frank snatched the opportunity from his fingers. Before he could protest, he’d handed it off to Dee. Mac and Dee looked down to Frank dumbfounded.

“Go! Go! Finish the plan!” He commanded, and the two of them bolted. Charlie tried to follow by shortcutting over the bar, but Dennis and Frank were too quick. They gripped him by his ankles and pulled him back down. He probably could have fought Dennis or Frank off by themselves, but not the two of them together. Biting, scratching, kicking. All useful tactics that neither man alone could handle, but together (or, in reality, Frank helping Dennis to a minor degree) they were able to drag Charlie to the back office.

 

* * *

 

“How do you wanna do this?” Dee was clutching the key tightly, like her life depended on it. It did. She would be the one stuck with Charlie Work if he turned smart _and_ gay.

Mac was shifting in her passenger seat, trying to remember the plan. He had the photos Frank gave him, though he hadn’t dared to look. Whatever they were, it was enough to freak Charlie out and Mac _really didn’t want to know._ He felt the envelope through his pants pocket.

“We go to Science Bitch’s apartment,”

“Mhm.” Dee agreed, holding up the key to ensure that, _yes_ , she still had it.

“We leave the photos where Charlie will find them.” That was the plan, Mac was sure. “And we check out his gay stash.”

“What now?” Dee didn't remember that part of the plan.

“His gay stash, you know? Porno mags, dildos, rainbow flags. We take them.”

Dee tilted her head, face scrunched. “Why, exactly?”

Frustrated he even had to explain, he went on: “Because Dee, that’s how they convert people. They introduce straight guys like me and Charlie to this stuff, and we get temptations. Then we burn in hell for all eternity and I don’t want Charlie to go to level seven hell.”

“Level seven?”

“Uh, yeah Dee. The nine levels of hell? You should know this. You’ll be in level five.”

“What about you then?”

“Oh, I’m not going to hell.”

“Uh huh,”

“But if Charlie is straight then he’ll only be in level one!”

“I don’t have time for this.” Dee’s whine matched the engine of her car perfectly as its ignition sputtered to life. “We’re just leaving Frank's photos. That’s it!”

 

* * *

  

“So what do we do now?”

“What do you mean _‘what do we do now?’!_ This is your plan Frank!”

Frank only shrugged, which sent Dennis into a tailspin. Charlie watched, because that’s all he really could do right now, as Dennis pulled at his hair and paced around the room, throwing inco-hear-rat ( _that’s not it, is it? Close enough.)_ vulgarities at Frank and his plan. The shade his face had turned in its frustration and rage was somewhere between grape and fire truck red- but Charlie wasn’t sure what to call it. Other than fucking crazy.

"This is so goddamn stupid Frank! I can't believe you're making us do this! Do you  _know_ just how stupid this plan is? Especially now that Charlie  _knows_ something is going on!"

When he’d finished, face returning to its usual tense frown and his spit wiped clean from his chin, Frank looked unimpressed. “You done?”

“Yeah.” Dennis straightened his shirt.

“Good.” Frank looked to Charlie, who in all honesty looked rather relaxed for his current situation. Duck taped to an office chair by his wrists and ankles, with an extra strip secured around his mouth. Above it, his eyes watched Dennis and Frank with less concern and more boredom at the situation.

“You’re gonna tell us everything, Charlie.” Frank’s voice was serious. Dennis sulked behind him.

_How?_

“That Science Bitch, he’s no good. He’ll use you just like last time.”

Charlie huffed, trying to push at the tape with his tongue between parted lips. It didn’t budge. _This is all so stupid._

“We gotta get him friendly first, so he’ll tell us everything.” Frank was looking directly at Charlie, though his words were directed towards Dennis, like some nameless mafia henchman.

“How exactly are we gonna do that?”

A smile spread across his round cheeks, revealing short stubby teeth. _Fuck._

 

* * *

 

“Mac!” Dee squeaked as he disappeared into Science Bitch's bedroom. _They were just supposed to leave the envelope where Charlie would find it! What’s so hard to understand about that?_

She followed him, watching the front door anxiously as he rifled through drawers, shelves, even the guys trash. “What the hell are you looking for!”

Mac sighed, throwing his hands up in indignation. “I’ve explained this Dee!”

“He’s not keeping a dildo in his trash can Mac!”

“Well I don’t know then! Maybe if you’d helped instead of squawk.”

Dee scowled, walking right past Mac and to the nightstand. “Everybody keeps dildos in their sock-drawer numbnuts.” Yanking it free she looked inside, holding up a National Geographic issue in triumph. “The only thing Science Bitch is gay for, is science.”

“That’s really lame. What you just said?”

“Well, I didn’t have time to think of anything better,” she went to toss the magazine back in when she froze, staring into the drawer with wide eyes.

Mac paid no attention until she had them out and was flipping through the stack. “What is that?”

“GQ, Men’s Health,”

“So what? Dennis and I read those.”

She smirked as she held the last shiny magazine up with its shirtless hunk, “and OUT.”

 

* * *

 

This could have been a world record. It certainly was Charlie’s personal record. But the pain in his lungs was too much, he had to breathe.

The worst part was, it was a deep rich breath filled with the perfumed chemical high Frank wanted him to be in. And with each try to hold his breath longer, the eventual yield only felt sweeter. This high rivaled the one from Saturday, rivaled any he’d had in a long time. _That paint thinner was some good shit._

Finally, as he was drooling through the tape, Frank took the can away and Dennis pulled the tape. It was slick, it’s adhesive barely tacky.

At least he wasn’t alone up here. Dennis and Frank had indulged themselves as well, though it was clear to him he was the highest of the bunch, since Frank and Dennis were still standing. Charlie wasn’t even sure he had bones anymore. He wiggled his fingers to test the theory.

“Alright,” Frank grumbled. It wasn’t his substance of choice and seemed to be regretting participating at all. “Tell us what happened Charlie.”

“Hmm?” He wiggled his other fingers, watching them squirm like little worms.

“Charlie,”

He blinked up at Frank. He looked like he was going to be sick. Pasty and green. Charlie couldn’t help but laugh at him. He couldn’t stop giggling. _This was some good shit. Dennis had been holding out on them._

_Oh, Dennis._

Standing behind Frank, Dennis looked like he was about to snap. _Like a rubber band._

“I’m not going to snap!” Dennis was red again, but Charlie suspected it was more from the high than frustration. “Let me do this Frank.”

Frank staggered aside, taking a seat on the desk as Dennis stalked forward. He looked like that pale horseman Mac always went on about. Charlie knew this was how he got his way with most people, but not Charlie. No, Dennis didn’t scare Charlie. Not when he looked like a giant stretched rubber band. Rolling his head back, he listened to Dennis drone on.

“What happened last night Charlie? Was I right about Science Bitch?”

Charlie giggled again. “No man, he didn’t put the moves on me.”

“Charlie, oh sweet, sweet Charlie.” Dennis was crouching down over him, breath hot on his cheeks. “You don’t have to lie to us. We’re your friends.”

Shaking his head, Charlie grinned. “Did not. We played music _allllll_ night. Just like I said we would.” Charlie nodded along to the last sentence, his head dropping further into his chest each time. He didn’t dare mention the meltdown. The Waitress. That would only force them to push foreword. No, music. That’s the story he was going to stick to.

He felt sad then, thinking of the tape in his pocket. He wished he could have finished listening to it. Last night was fun, the last sober half at least, but Charlie couldn’t remember the later parts. Especially now with his mind foggy and buzzing. He must have glanced down because Dennis slipped his hand inside Charlie’s coat, retrieving the tape.

“What’s this?”

Charlie tried to shrug, but it felt like he’d only slid further down his seat.

Dennis reached over his desk, pulling the walkman from his drawer. The tape hissed to life, and Dennis and Frank listened as Doc’s voice asked him to lock up when he left.

_“Thanks, last night was a lot of fun. If you like we can work on your music again next week.”_

“See?” Charlie croaked. “Jus’ played music.”

Like before, the tape continued on to the next recording. The impromptu duet. They let it play further than Charlie had dared that morning. Doc’s smooth voice joining in with Charlie’s.

_“Though I’m past one hundred thousand miles, I’m feeling very still.”_

Dennis and Frank looked between each other, then to Charlie with narrowed eyes.

 _“Ground control to Major Tom, your circuit's dead,”_ It was Doc, alone, and Charlie remembered this vividly. Looking to Doc at his side as he belted out the last of the lyrics. _“There’s something wrong! Can you hear me Major Tom?”_

As the song came to an end, Charlie’s voice on the tape praising Doc’s until it continued to the next recording, Charlie’s voice the only one singing Dayman.

“That’s gay.”

And Charlie couldn’t take it anymore. “Shut up!”

Dennis and Frank both nodded in agreement. “Very gay.”

Struggling against the chair, only able to move it centimeters back, Charlie screamed: “Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!”

Then, as if the world had violently shot back, he felt his chair fall, but he didn’t hit the ground as expected. He was in limbo, head tilted at just the right angle to spin and his feet hovering far over the ground. Dennis was the only thing keeping him from falling, foot between Charlie’s thighs balancing the chair on its two back legs.

Frank circled him, a glass of water Charlie hadn’t seen before, hovering above his head. “You tell us what he did Charlie, or we’re gonna have to do this the old fashioned way.”

“Frank! C’mon Frank, don’t do this man! I’m telling the truth!”

“Not all of it!” Frank wriggled his fat finger at Charlie, and he shut his eyes as the glass tipped.

Water poured into his nose, ears, and mouth as he struggled against. He hoped Dennis would give way and he’d fall back to the floor, but his chair only rocked dangerously, adding to his panic. It wasn’t enough to make him feel like he was drowning, but it sucked. His nose and throat hurt from accidentally inhaling the water, and his head spun from the off-center gravity and buzzing high. _Fuck these guys._

“Charlie,” Dennis let the chair fall forward with a thud, putting them face to face again. Charlie wished looks really could kill, because Dennis would be a dead bastard. “What aren’t you telling us bud?”

A streak of rebellion struck and Charlie spit water at Dennis through his teeth. He flinched, but stood up confidently to tilt the chair back. Frank was ready with a fresh glass.

The second round was less effective. Charlie knew how to tilt his head so less water went up his nose, and could hold his breath long enough that the only effect was wet a wet face, hair, and shirt. _Frank really sucks at this._

However, when he was brought back up to Dennis, the bastard had formulated a different plan. “I think you're right Charlie, why would someone as smart and successful like Doc want to fuck you?”

“Don’t call him that,”  Charlie hissed.

“That’s what he is though. A doctor. A man of science!” Dennis raised his arms, fists balled into triumph. “A man of rationality and class. Who can kill gods and disease.”

He looked down to Charlie with pity, hands lowering and slowly gesturing to him. “And he’d want to fuck around with you? Someone who reeks of shit and calls himself the ‘rat king’? I don’t think so.”

Puffing his chest out, Charlie did his best to sit up.  “What’s so hard to believe? We’re friends. He’s teaching me.”

“Charlie, you’re hopeless,” Dennis scoffed. He leaned in, gripping Charlie by the chin roughly. “Your whore mother doesn’t even love you. Frank’s obviously your father and he won’t ever acknowledge it. The waitress thinks you're a disgusting freak and she’s such a fucking slut shed sleep with anyone, except you. Even your friends think you’re a fucking freak. Why would someone like him want to fuck you? You’re just a _small_ ,”

Charlie tried to speak, but Dennis’s grip was too tight. His cheeks pinching against the sides of his teeth in pain.

“ _Repulsive_ ,”

“Dennis, that’s enough.”

“ _Pathetic_ ,”

Charlie struggled to shake free, but Dennis was too close, too tight.

“Dennis!”

“Insignificant little _dirtgrub_.” Dennis didn’t pull away, held on tight as Charlie was forced to listen. “Doc probably fucking _hates you.”_

That had been enough to break him, and Charlie couldn’t help the way his eyes watered and his shoulders shook as he tried to hold back. _Fuck, after all the tears last night, how can there still be more?_ But it had been enough to summon more. A flood more.

Dennis released him, smirking at a job well done. “That’s how it’s done Frank.”

He didn’t look pleased, but Frank took the opportunity to get the answers he wanted now, while Charlie was ripe. “That sick freak raped you, didn’t he?!”

Charlie shook his head, sobbing into his chest. “No!”

“Then what the hell ‘you crying for!”

“Because!” Charlie screeched, “I like him! Okay? I fucking might even like him as much as the Waitress and I can’t even think because everybody keeps calling me gay and saying he’s gonna rape me and I just, I just- I _FUCK!”_

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t feel his heart, it had moved to his ears and was mashing his brains with its drumming. _I’m gonna fucking die, I’m dying, I’m dying, fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Help!_ The world last night had closed in, but now it felt like it was exploding. Like he had blown up into a thousand bits and he couldn’t catch them. He couldn’t make head or tails of what was going on around him.

Was it him screaming? Or Dennis and Frank? Or all of them? Why was he so hot? _Why couldn’t he just fucking breathe?!_

“Dennis? Frank?”

_Mac, oh god, Mac couldn’t know!_

“It’s fine Charlie! Charlie breathe!” Frank was by his side screaming into his ear, and Charlie flinched. He hadn't seen him move, couldn’t even feel him clutching Charlie’s arms with his chubby hands. “Dennis, go get Mac and Dee.”

He slipped out of the office, rushing to the bar where Mac and Dee sat with pleased smirks and only the occasional glance to the back where Charlie could be heard gasping and wheezing through the door, Frank yelling at him in turn.

“What up?” Was all Dennis could say.

“Anything we should know about back there?” Dee asked, and Dennis shook his head. It was the only answer her and Mac needed.

“Science Bitch is gay!” Mac announced proudly. “Totally gay. We won. And we left those photos where Charlie will find them.”

“Good, Good.” Dennis felt a little bad, it’d break the poor saps heart, but Charlie would bounce back.

“So, what’d you find out? Charlie get raped?” Dee was already opening a beer and slurping it down.

“Uh, no. No. Turns out they did just play music last night.”

The office door slammed and Frank came waddling out, hands waving towards the gang. “Key! Key!”

“We left it under the mat,” Mac explained.

“Why the hell you do that!”

“Because Frank, Charlie forgot to leave it there, so we left it for him.” Mac scoffed as he accepted a beer from Dee, as though it were obvious.

“We gotta get those photos back!”

Everyone looked to Frank as though he’d suddenly announced he’d become devoutly Christian. With horror and shock.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dennis shouted, the most horrified and angry of them all. “We just pulled this thing off, why would you want to backtrack?”

“You heard Charlie back there!” Frank looked desperate. “This guy means a lot to him! We can’t fuck this up!”

“Frank,” Dee was screeching now, desperate to ensure she wouldn’t be stuck with Charlie Work. “If he turns gay or smart, he’s not going to work anymore! Nobody wants that!”

The gang all nodded in agreement, but Frank clutched his firsts to his shirt, trying to tear it off to show his rage, but unsuccessful. “No! We’ll figure out something else! But we gotta fix this! He has more of a shot with this guy than he ever will with that Waitress broad!”

“No!” Dennis persisted. “No! If he starts seriously considering this guy as an option then it’s all over, Charlie Work, us! The Waitress’s unattainability means Charlie will always be stuck with us!”

“I’ll pay you each fifty bucks!”

Dennis went to grab his keys, Mac and Dee grabbing extra beers for the road. As he opened the office door, Dennis froze.

“Shit!”

 

* * *

 

He was soaking wet, chest pounding, and fucking filthy. Oh yeah, and he was still really fucking high on paint thinner. _Jesus, that’s strong._

He’d heard only part of the conversation through the office door as he slipped into the vents, the key was under the mat. And that’s all he needed for where he was going. _Fuck those guys._

His wrists ached, but he’d been sweating so much his hands just slipped right through the tape bindings, fingers wiggling easily beneath like little worms. From there, the vents were easy, but filthy. Now he was covered in dust and grime, stuck to his wet hair and sweaty skin as he army crawled through them.

 _“I have never, nor will ever.”_ The Walkman echoed from his pocket.

 _“It’s alright,”_ recorder Charlie assured. _“It’s not for everyone, but I’d like to try it. Hey! What if me and you-“_

_“You and I,”_

_“That’s what I said, me and you, did it? Ya’know? Like we could go tomorrow and you and me could go together!”_

_“Break into a museum? You must be mad.”_

_“No! Really! We sneak in, have a picnic, and we wait for all the displays to come to life-“_

_“That’s a movie.”_

_“Based on true events, probably,”_ Charlie remembered this now! And he remembered Doc’s response-

_“I’d rather have just have a nice dinner and watch the movie.”_

Charlie crawled faster.


	4. “Charlie and Science Bitch Put on a Show”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re the only one who calls me that.”
> 
> “What?”
> 
> “Charles. Everyone calls me Charlie. But never Charles.”
> 
> The Doc finally looked at him, unamused frown offset by his pink skin. “I don’t care! Will you please go get some clothes, for God’s sake!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, here we are with chapter 4 and some R rated content. JFC why do I do this. Hope someone somewhere enjoys.
> 
> Wanna listen to the playlist I created for this fic? [Here's the Youtube link](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLvajtsy-ZIfRnJDYaDMeiWv1F7m2ktIEx&disable_polymer=true) (8tracks version coming maybe later)

* * *

 

They had no idea how he’d gotten there so fast, but Dennis, Mac, Frank, and Dee watched in horror from the Range Rover as Charlie entered the apartment complex.

“How the hell did he get here so fast?” Mac asked rhetorically, but Dennis restarted his car.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Frank reached over, grabbing at the wheel only to be swatted away.

“Back to the bar. It’s done.”

“One of us has to go up there!” Frank insisted.

“I’ll do it!” Mac volunteered, but they unanimously shut him down. The last thing they needed was a preachy closet case dealing with whatever the hell Charlie was going through.

Frank started to open the door, and everyone also unanimously agreed he should not be the one to go. He’d make it worse, even though it was his stupid plan.

Dee outright refused, though no one asked her.

So, like everything else, it was up to Dennis. But he while he pretended to piss and moan, he knew this would be left up to him. He knew this plan would fall apart and something similar would happen. And thankfully he’d planned accordingly. _Always finding a bright side._ He handed the keys to Dee, and left without another word, following after Charlie.

 

* * *

 

_16, 17, 18, 19, 20!_

Charlie was panting at the top of the stairs, slipping his hand under the mat and retrieving the key. _Please don’t be home, please don’t be home._

The apartment was dark, and everything still seemed to be here. Why Dee and Mac had come was unclear, but at least they hadn’t stolen anything Charlie could tell. But he needed to focus.

Shutting the door, Charlie began to strip, leaving a trail of clothes behind him into the bathroom. _Clean_ . _Science Bitch wouldn’t like a dirtgrub, and despite What Dennis said, people liked him. Dirty, or not. But he wanted to be clean for Science Bitch. Especially if he wanted this to work._

The shower roared to life and Charlie went to work, determined to prove them wrong.

Dennis saw Charlie slip into the apartment, and waited a good five minutes before entering. It was dark, and the sound of rushing water and trail of clothes tipped Dennis off to where Charlie was. He had time.

Slinking into the kitchen, he found the envelope easily enough, stored in the fridge beneath a pack of beer, no doubt the perfect spot for Charlie to find. Dennis took a seat at the table, and for the first exciting time slipped the photos from the envelope. He’d expected something titillating. Compromising photos of either Charlie or Science Bitch, but what Frank had gotten was simple sabotage, though not very interesting.

Poorly taken polaroid shots of Science Bitch and the Waitress at the coffee shop. As Dennis flipped through the stack, the story evolved.

They were just talking in the first few, then she’d leaned over to him. The last one was a photo of them embracing, Science Bitch’s eyes wide, while hers were shut tight, first clenching his coat and forcing him to stay put. It looked unwelcome, though he doubted Charlie would have been able to see past the kiss alone.

With a tsk of disappointment, Dennis returned them to their envelope, and stuffing them into his jacket pocket.

He took the liberty of exploring the apartment as Charlie showered, running his fingers along figurines and straightening the occasionally crooked frame. What would it be like to live like Science Bitch? With Charlie desperate and in the palm of your hand? He strolled into the bedroom.

It was humid in here. The bathroom door shut, but steam escaping from beneath it to float about the room. Dennis waved through it and stood at a bookshelf before him. On the top shelf a row of dusty books looked as though they had been untouched in years.

_Perfect._

Dennis slipped his plan b from his pocket and placed it beneath a lopsided book where it would remain hidden for god-knows how long. A day? A month? Years? That was part of the fun.

From there Dennis decided it would be best to leave, and as he walked leisurely from the bedroom, he heard the sound of light footsteps outside the door. Quickly he chose to retreat back into the bedroom as the front door swung open.

“Charles?” The shaky British voice called out.

Dennis looked over the room. Closet, or bed? He dove beneath the bed as the footsteps followed him, stopping at the bathroom door. “Charles, is that you?”

From his hiding spot, Dennis could see the leather shoes and tailored hem of Science Bitch. The water shut off. Light beneath the door stretch wide as Charlie opened it to speak.

“Yeah Doc, uh, sorry. There was an incident at work and I needed a shower, but I couldn’t go back to my place. I’m sorry,”

“Oh it’s fine,” though Dennis couldn’t tell from the tone if he was genuine. “The clothes out here, are they dirty? I can throw them in the wash if you like?”

“I don’t have anything else to wear...”

“That’s alright, I have some sweats you may borrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, ok.”

The door clicked shut, it’s light disappearing, and Dennis’s heart pounded. Science Bitch was bending over, picking up clothes from the floor. If he looked up at just the right angle, he would see Dennis beneath the bed. He’d be caught. It was thrilling. But he never glanced to the side. Never once looked up just enough to see the stranger hidden beneath his bed.

Science Bitch took the bundle of filthy clothing to his closet, and when the doors opened Dennis could see the white bottoms of a washer and dryer. Like always, his intuition had been beyond perfect.

Science Bitch plucked a basket inches from Dennis’s hand, tossing its contents into the wash with Charlie’s. He was so close, Dennis could outstretched his arm and grip his ankle.

Light entered the room again, this time brighter. Dennis could see Charlie’s bare feet pad gently across the rug. Science Bitch’s feet pointed towards the machine, unaware Charlie stood so close behind him. _It would be so easy, for both of us. So, so easy._

Charlie remained quiet as he stood behind Doc, naked. It took every ounce of his self control to stay still, waiting for the Doc to turn in his own time. The run over had taken care of most of his high, but he still had enough to be completely confident in this decision. _Fuck it._

The washer shut with a click, and Doc turned, only to twist back at the sight of Charlie.

“F _uck!_ ” He had jumped a mile high and was clutching his chest with one hand, guarding his eyes with the other.

Charlie snickered. That was only the second time he’d heard Doc curse and it was hot.

“Charles, what the _fuck_ are you doing?!”

_Third._

Charlie shrugged, palms open to the world, offering anyone to answer for him. But Doc couldn’t see with his back turned and hand forming a shield against his eyes.

When no answer came, Doc looked to the heavens, hoping they would provide one. “Charles-“

“You’re the only one who calls me that.”

“What?”

“Charles. Everyone calls me Charlie. But never Charles.”

The Doc finally looked at him, unamused frown offset by his pink skin. “I don’t care! Will you please go get some clothes, _for God’s sake!”_

“I don’t have any.”

“I was going to bring you some.”

From his spot he could only see the wiggle of Charlie’s toes and hear the nervous pitch in Science Bitch’s voice. Dennis wished he had a better view, but he didn’t dare. Not yet. They’d hear him.

“Will you, I don’t know, turn around or something?” Doc’s eyes dropping momentarily only to glance back to the ceiling.

“Do you want me to?”

Doc stammered, “It, uh- I would- um,” then fell back into silence.

Charlie didn’t know much about being gay, or sex, or really anything about that kinda stuff in general. But he figured this was the right time to take a step forward.

Thankfully, Science Bitch was more adapted at recognizing a prime opportunity. If it had been up to Charlie alone, they would have stood there, Charlie a few inches closer and within arms reach, until the moment passed. Then Dennis would have missed a very rare opportunity.

Doc leaned forward cautiously, meeting Charlie halfway. His lips were dry and cracked, but his tongue darted out to help the situation. Dropping his mouth open in invitation, Charlie let Science Bitch explore with tentative curiosity. It was nerve wracking, it was wary, it was explorative.

He’d never done this with another man, and certainly never shared anything like it with another woman. High still fueling his courage, Charlie leaned in deeper, body pressed onto Doc until the taller man stumbled back into the closet. Charlie followed.

From his angle, Dennis watched as they stumbled, Science Bitch pressed against his washer as it hummed into his back. Charlie’s bare legs were between his, their entire support dependent on the machine. While it had all been unsure before, like Science Bitch was test driving a car, it had escalated now. Charlie had suddenly invested all his energy into this, and Science Bitch was flooring it. Moans, grunts, and wet noises were all he could hear from his dark corner.

Charlie’s hands pulled at Docs sweater, and Doc obliged in stripping it off. A hand ran through his wet hair and Charlie groaned, hands feeling every inch of skin between them. He hesitated at the belt, but Doc was eager to reach the level of freedom Charlie was enjoying. Pushing away just enough to slip free of his pants and underwear

Charlie kept his eyes closed. If he opened them that would mean this was real. This wasn’t some horny fueled trip that would lead to just sticky sweats in the morning at his own apartment. If he opened them, this would be real. No. He’d keep them shut.

Doc didn’t seem to notice, and Charlie didn’t slow down the pace they had set. He could feel hands guide him back until his knees touched the mattress, and he sat down.

They were right there. Right. There. Dennis could just reach out and touch Charlie’s ankles. He had to hold his breath to ensure it wouldn’t be felt.

A hand stroked Charlie’s face, gently, afraid the slightest movement may scare him away. Doc let it follow down his shoulder, then, as he dropped to his knees in front of Charlie, his thigh.

“Are you going to open your eyes?”

Charlie shook his head, his hands rubbing anxiously against his knees. “I just, uh, just not ready yet.”

He could feel Docs fingers trace circles along his hip. His breath so close to his chest, his dick. He couldn’t dare look. If it was real, he didn’t want to risk it being a dream. If he opened his eyes, it could all vanish.

“Alright,” Science Bitch accepted, going along with it.

Dennis felt his heart pounding, his whole body hot against the carpet. He couldn’t see anything beyond Charlie’s ankles, and Science Bitch’s hairy legs and thighs between them. They were so close, and yet they had no idea. _Fuck,_ he was so hard it hurt, but he didn’t dare move to touch himself, or even adjust to end the pressure between his tight jeans and the hard floor.

Docs hand moved along Charlie’s thigh, his free one gently taking his cock and stroking. Charlie’s breath hitched, his fingers clenching against his knees. He wasn’t sure what to do. How to react.

“Have you had sex before?” _Was it that obvious?_

Charlie nodded, “Uh yeah. A few times, but only with chicks.”

“Would it help if you laid back? To help relax?”

“No,” Charlie liked it here, he just didn’t know how to relax to this. To feeling so exposed.

“What would you be comfortable with?”

He’d never been asked that. The few times he’d had sex he’d either been shit faced or the girl just did whatever she wanted, Charlie following orders. _This was new. This was terrifying._

He opened his eyes, and Doc was staring him down, dark eyes and thin lips holding his gaze. It was real. It was all real. Charlie held out his hand, hovering above Docs jaw. He leaned into the touch with a smirk.

“I- uh -don’t mind if you,” he glanced down to his cock, standing up in desperation. “I just- I’m not sure if I, well, if I could do the same thing back.”

“That’s alright.”

Charlie’s hand slid upward, running through his soft black hair and ruining what little style had been left. “What should I do with my hands?”

“Whatever you like, though I do find this rather good.”

“Alright,” Charlie went along with it. Fingers ran through Doc's hair again, hand following his head as it dipped foreword.

_Oh fuck, oh fuck!_

Dennis watched as Charlie’s toes curled, only able to imagine what Science Bitch was doing to elicit such noises from Charlie’s belly. A deep moan, then a shaky breath, only to repeat louder each time. Dennis had never heard such noises escape Charlie, never could have imagined such sounds before. Now, they would become a favorite for private thoughts.

Unable to look away, Charlie’s gaze was fixated on Doc as his head moved lazily up and down, slick spit trailing after each go. He’d gotten one blowjob back in high school from some girl with braces and one of those metal locks on the roof of her mouth, and ever since he’d avoided them (though no offers had been another reason) ever since. _But this, this felt amazing. It looked amazing._

Doc’s lidded eyes glanced up to Charlie a few times before returning to his work, taking his task seriously. His fine black hair was thoroughly messed up by Charlie’s insistent pawing. Docs skin no longer an even shade of pink, but rather hot blotchy patches on his cheeks and shoulders. Cock disappearing and reappearing between slick red lips.

“Fuck you’re good,” Charlie couldn’t help but moan. He didn’t know if it was right, but it felt right.

Dennis couldn’t resist after hearing that, he had to touch himself. Lifting his hips from the floor, he silently slid his hand beneath his jeans. It was uncomfortable, it was tight, it was fucking good.

A lude pop, and Doc rested on his heels to take a moment to breath. From here, Dennis could see everything displayed as though it were just for him. Pale thighs spread, cock displayed between them as if knowing Dennis were down there.

“Charlie, can I ask you to do something? If you’re not comfortable with it that’s perfectly alright,”

Dennis held his breath, and by the tension in the room he could sense Charlie was doing the same.

"This is sort of your first time, and all, so I don’t want to make you feel as though- well- I’d appreciate it if you could be, if you’re open to it, of course,” The Doc was rambling now, hesitant to say what he really wanted.

Charlie’s voice was small and Dennis watched as his calves pressed together, obstructing that marvelous view in front of him. “You’re not asking to, like, pee on me are you?”

The scientist’s eyes widened in shock. “No! No, Charlie,” he hesitated, before deciding it was best just to spit it out. “I am trying to-  you could be a bit rougher.”

Silence swelled in the apartment, Dennis watching as the two men before him tensed (or their legs, as it were). There was a long moment where neither said anything, Charlie looking down at Science Bitch with mouth open and eyebrows pressed in uncertainty.

“What do you mean-?”

“It’s fine,” Doc shifted on his heels, “No, I should have- this isn’t really appropriate for our first time. Especially since you and I-” He laughed uncomfortably, quickly trying to shove his question back into the pipe it had burst from.

“Rougher… how?”

Dennis was shocked Charlie was pushing this, that he even let the thought dangle between them. Charlie was, well, _Charlie._ Sex to him was a dirty sock and a quick jerk off when Frank was (hopefully) asleep. What did he know of the intricacies of foreplay?

Science Bitch’s voice seemed to hook in his throat, releasing a long _uh,_ before finally trying, and he did try, to explain what he had meant. That fleeting thought ( _or had this been something he’d been considering for some time?_ ) that had now been seriously left on the table, with Charlie seeming to actually take a taste of what was being offered.

“Well, say, hair pulling, or- or perhaps, er, well-”

“Well?”

“Well, just to be _rough!_ ” Doc insisted, as though it were simply that obvious.

“You’re the one who suggested it!” Charlie snapped, and Dennis could see the way Doc’s cock had twitched in interest at that. Charlie, however, was oblivious.

It was a shame really, for someone like Dennis who loved the more sadistic, questionable side of sex. BDSM had been a steadily increasing aspect of his own sex life for some years, and watching these two morons flounder around, unsure, made his eyes roll back into his skull. If he hadn’t been Dennis, the Golden God, he probably would have lost his hard on by now with all the tiptoeing around. If it were him and not Charlie on that bed, he’d take the opportunity Science Bitch was practically giving on a golden platter, and _see_ just how rough he’d meant. A twist pulled at Dennis’s gut with a new, even more exciting thought. Not only seeing _how far_ and _how long_ Science Bitch (or even Charlie for that matter) would go, but teaching sweet Charlie how to take what was being offered.

“Well,” Science Bitch’s hands slid over Charlie’s thighs, “It was just a thought.”

But that thought had seemingly peaked Charlie’s interest, and cautiously he reached forward to once again run a hand through dark hair, gripping a fistful at the crown. It hadn’t been tight enough to cause any pain, but Science Bitch’s breath hitched, allowing his head to be drawn back. Neck exposed.

“Is this okay?”

It was all like a tightrope, Charlie balancing on that edge between unsure and just right. In an instant, it could snap, and Dennis expected it to at any moment.

Doc’s adam apple bobbed as he swallowed, nodding slowly to allow that tug of hair to pull just right. “Yes, I will tell you if it is too much. I promise.”

Charlie’s fist tightened in curiosity, watching the way Doc’s lips pulled back in a hiss. _The fucker was smiling._ He didn’t hesitate, pulling Doc’s head towards his own to catch that smirk, stubble scratching along smooth skin.

Usually, Charlie wasn’t a fan of kissing. Too much tongue and spit that he just didn’t appreciate having all over his face. But this was… different. Better. He got to choose just how much he wanted to give, and right now he wanted to leave something on Doc that Dennis had always taken the opportunity to show off whenever he got one.

“Are you,” Doc was squirming, but stretched his neck out for Charlie to explore, “Are you giving me a hickey?”

Charlie hummed, thumb running along Doc’s throat as he held him in place. He’d heard secondhand how they were done, and just hoped it was enough. His teeth nipped at the skin as he pulled away, just to be sure. Experimentally, he pressed his thumb into the red skin, causing Doc to flinch.

“Okay?”

“Mhm.” Doc’s hand wrapped around his dick again, dark eyes locked with Charlie’s. “Haven’t had one of those since secondary school.”

A sliver of pink darted between his lips, but Charlie held him back. “Can we have sex?”

Doc laughed, “I thought that’s what we were doing?”

Charlie leaned in again, this time his beard brushed against Doc’s cheek as he leaned down to his ear. “I wanna fuck you,”

That tightrope had snapped, and Dennis felt his heart pounding so vigorously in his chest he wondered how they could not hear its beating beneath the bed, like some fucked up version of The Tell-Tale Heart. The bed groaned as Charlie moved back, and the wooden beams above him bowed with the extra weight of the scientist joining him.

Lying on his back, Charlie gazed up at that perfect white ceiling, allowing that bed to finally, fully engulf him. It was all surreal. For once in his life, everything was a solid 10. The bed, the apartment, being freshly clean, a high that wasn’t fucking terrible on its way down, and Doc above it all. He wasn’t exactly sure what stroke of luck he’d hit, or karma he’d earned to deserve all this, but he was gonna go buy a scratch ticket when this was over.

The vision of white canvas was disturbed by Doc crawling over him, pressing feathered kisses across his chest and cheeks, before settling on Charlie’s lap. _Rough,_ he reminded himself, as though it had been an order. He dug his fingers into the Doc’s hips, eliciting a soft moan and flutter of lashes.

“Like this?”

Doc nodded, then, lean body stretched over Charlie, reaching for the drawer of the nightstand. Charlie didn’t follow the reach, instead stretching up to press another kiss into that reddening bruise he’d left. Doc giggled, finally finding what he’d been searching for, and perching tall above Charlie (and out of reach).

Dennis could feel the weight of them above him, pressing the frames beams into his shoulders, and forcing his hips back onto the floor. It wasn’t comfortable, but he could hear and feel every movement.

A loud plastic pop of a lid, clear liquid spilled out over Science Bitch’s thin long fingers. Charlie watched in awe as Doc’s hand disappeared behind him, mouth dropping open and eyes slipping shut. He tossed the closed bottle to the floor, before locking eyes with Charlie.

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Yeah,” Charlie’s hips bucked on their own accord, finding slick fingers in his path.

The bottle of lube had bounced off the wall, then, like shrapnel, skittered beneath the bed against Dennis’s leg. With as little movement as possible, he slid his leg over to abandon the tube at the edge of the bed frame where it would hopefully be found easily, with no need to feel or peek beneath.

Doc began to move, lowering himself onto Charlie with delicate precision, dark eyes focused on his task. With each slow fall and lift, Charlie was growing impatient.

He’d been good. He had been patient, eager to go slow and steady. He let Doc suck his dick, indulged in some ‘rough’ness, but this was torture. And Charlie was eager to get to the good part.

 _You could be a bit rougher,_ Charlie thought. _I will tell you if it is too much. I promise._

Without warning, Charlie held tight to Doc, ensuring he was secure, and rolled. Taken off guard Science Bitch had yelped, only to be found with his back to the mattress and staring up at Charlie, who had passed hesitation and was already adjusting his legs to better accommodate a comfortable angle.

Dennis wasn’t sure what had happened, the bed had suddenly crushed down onto his back and he had unwillingly released a grunt, though the sound of Science Bitch’s alarmed shout had overpowered it. Then, the bed frame began to squeak in protest, wooden legs bending to and fro. Momentarily Dennis panicked, fearing it would simply collapse on him, _what a way to go._

Struggling to hold his own noises to a minimum, Dennis fondled himself beneath his jeans (though it wouldn’t matter if he had, as Science Bitch was making enough noise to overpower a freight train). He could feel the press of the bed frame on his ass, forcing his hips to grind into the floor with the enthusiastic rhythm Charlie had set. It was taking his entire will power to hold back, refusing to get off until the game had ended.

Firm hands spread over Docs chest, holding him in place as Charlie thrust unrelentingly. There was no slowing down, no coherent thoughts between the two, Charlie only vaguely listening incase of protests. But none came. Instead, the only words coming from Doc were _“Oh fuck, Charles, fuck, fuck, oh fuckin’ christ!”_

Though the vast majority of sounds escaping the scientist were deep moans Charlie had never heard another human make before. It pushed him farther, to keep those noise coming. He could only faintly hear the sounds of his own heavy breath and deep guttural moans over Docs wails, the beds protests, and the persistent deafening sound of skin on skin.

Charlie was far into the moment, his high just sweet enough to keep his mind hyper focused on the task at hand. The only thing he could think of was reaching that light at the end of the tunnel, unable to make sense of reality beyond skin, screams, and ecstasy.

He chased that feeling, desperate to hit the end. And like a cliff he dropped off suddenly, or leapt off, his entire body seized. Needing something to grip onto, his hands held tightly to Doc’s waist as he thrust one last time, his entire body curling in on itself.

With his body still twitching, muscles aching in the warm feeling spreading through him, Charlie wrapped a tight first around Doc’s cock, helping him catch up. His breath hitched, white rope shooting across his sweat covered chest and tanned fist, joining Charlie in that glow.

Dennis bit down on his lip, eliciting a soundless whine as he too followed the others. He slid his sticky hands from beneath his jeans, wiping them lazily on the carpet, listening for what would come next.

The deafening sounds of the room vanished, heavy breathing taking its place. Charlie shifted, collapsing on the bed besides Doc with a dopey content smile.

“That was actually pretty fun,”

Science Bitch gave a huff, an attempt to laugh with no air in his lungs. “Yeah, that’s one way to describe it.”

The mattress sunk as Charlie settled further into it, fingers finding Doc’s in the dim light. “I gotta go to the gas station,”

Doc’s brows furrowed as he turned to look at Charlie in confusion. “Why?”

If Charlie was in any right state of mind, he’d probably think Doc’s voice had cracked from panic. But with his head far above the earth he just as soon could have guessed Doc’s croak was from exhaustion.

“I’m wanna’ get a scratch ticket.”

“Oh,” Doc shut his eyes, bringing Charlie’s interlaced fingers to his lips to press a kiss. “Right now?”

“Later.” Charlie spared a glance over, catching sight of Doc’s face at the most relaxed stated he’d ever seen it, smug smirk tugging at his fine lips. He risked stealing another kiss from them before settling down against his side.

That smirk spread to a grin, Doc’s eyes remaining shut. “If you’ll wait, I’ll go with you.”

“Where?”

“Gas station. Maybe a coffee too.”

“Hmm,” Charlie agreed. Though he could spare a few more minutes here.

 


	5. “The Sabotage in Action”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was fascinating really, to see the gold Charlie had struck. This scientist who seemed not disgusted by Charlie, which was a feat on its own, but interested in Charlie’s (often idiotic) opinions. If it wasn’t so abnormal, Dennis would have found their relationship completely unnoteworthy. But anyone invested in Charlie romantically must have a few screws loose, and Dennis was eager to see just how cracked this Professor was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for all the comments/subscriptions/bookmarks guys! I’m shocked anyone is reading this tbh since it’s such a random outdated ship. As usual I am late to the party, but it’s nice to know I’m not the only one hanging out at the snacks.

 

* * *

 

Charlie Work had not faltered. In fact, Dennis dare say the little man had a new bounce in his step and Paddy’s seemed unusually clean. To the point the gang was being extra messy to keep the regulars from feeling it was getting too classy for ‘em. Since _the night,_ as he mentally referred to it, Dennis had been keeping an eye the dirtgrub in more ways than one.

Sure, it took a few hours for Charlie and Science Bitch to peel away from the bed, get dressed, and head out into the night for a walk to god-knows where, but Dennis was eventually able to crawl from his hiding place and return to the world, as it were. The two lovebirds none the wiser.

It was fascinating really, to see the gold Charlie had struck. This scientist who seemed not disgusted by Charlie, which was a feat on its own, but _interested_ in Charlie’s (often idiotic) opinions. If it wasn’t so abnormal, Dennis would have found their relationship completely unnoteworthy. But anyone invested in Charlie romantically _must_ have a few screws loose, and Dennis was eager to see just how cracked this Professor was.

 _“What tie should I wear tomorrow?”_ Science Bitch would ask.

 _“I like that one,”_ Charlie would say, pointing to the ugliest of the two shown to him.

 _“What are your thoughts on Korean tonight?”_ He’d ask.

_“Nice people, but that Kim guy's a real prick.”_

_“True, but you like the food?”_

_“Yeah, love it.”_ And Science Bitch would order in, smiling in dopey amusement at Charlie’s incompetence.

 _“I wish I was a cat,”_ Charlie would announce. _“Think cats afraid of spiders?”_

Science Bitch would always answer Charlie’s questions, no matter how strange. Or help him look it up. Or simply hand his phone over for Charlie to ask Siri. It was all so domestic and comfortable, like looking through the glass at a zoo and witnessing monkeys groom one another in blissful ignorance. It had gone from innocent perversion to a damn observation study.

Like clockwork, Dennis would return home and watch his collected data, witnessing the home life of Science Bitch, often with Charlie by his side morning and evenings. It was better than television, dare he say better than (some) of his sex tapes. His little camera tucked up on the corner of that dusty bookshelf, caught it all. Plan B was a marvelous success.

Not to mention the bonus of reliving that night he had hidden beneath the bed in an extended, all be it even more illegal way. Not only had he caught that wonderful night to forever preserve, his fine ass sliding beneath the bed and all, but every night Charlie and Scientist had shared since. Unaware they had a live audience.

For instance, tonight they had enjoyed a dinner of Spaghetti courtesy Charlie attempting to cook, and though his camera only caught the bedroom, Dennis could hear the conversation evolve in the kitchen.

_“How much of this did you make?”_

_“I don’t know,”_ Charlie said unworried. “ _Enough we can take some for lunches.”_

_“Charles, this is very sweet, but-“_

_“But?”_

_“I think it might be too much,”_

Charlie could be heard laughing. _“Nah, come on. I’ll freeze some bags of it and we won’t have to cook for awhile. That’s what I do at my place.”_

_“What’s in the sauce?”_

_“What, don’t you like it?”_

Silence, and hesitancy. _“It’s unusual.”_

_“It’s my special recipe.”_

_“Oh, well.”_

_“You don’t like it,”_

_“I didn’t say that.”_

_“Look if you don’t like it,”_ Charlie screeched, the sound of pots clattering.

_“I’ll try it, it’s just a lot of food.”_

_“Anything you don’t want I’ll take home to Frank,”_ Charlie compromised, and like that, the spat had ended. A feat mastered by few, Charlie’s temper had been cooled after it had begun to boil, with effortless ease.

Just hours ago Dennis had seen Charlie running from the basement of the bar, covered in filth and guts of rats announcing he had to go get groceries. Something so strange to hear come from Charlie’s lips they had all been convinced he was speaking a foreign language. Then, he walked straight out the door without looking back.

By some miracle Dennis had made it home in time, convinced Mac to under no circumstances come in his room tonight, and was able to open the footage before Charlie had finished boiling the pasta.

They had yet to have sex again since _the night_ , and it was driving Dennis mad. All that pent up sexual desire he could practically taste through his footage. They acted all collected, as if what had happened wasn’t such a momentous event, but Dennis knew, _knew goddamn it,_ that that this was just the calm before the storm. Any day now their blissful charade of a G rated 50s sitcom would be interrupted by the horny XXX rating only seen in the extreme pornos. And if Dennis couldn’t be live in the studio again, he was damn sure he could watch it.

He’d gotten off in the nights since at just the _idea_ of the next round; when it would be, how it would happen. And this fit Dennis’s mental creation of the event. Charlie surprising Science Bitch with dinner, the slow dance of cat and mouse banter, then the show. It all fit, and as he watched, breath hitched and eyes glued to his computer, the pieces fell into place.

Laughter from Charlie as the two stumbled gracelessly into the bedroom. Somehow Charlie had already lost his shirt and was working on Science Bitch’s belt. The bed squeaked in protest as Charlie shoved them down into it.

Wasting no time, Dennis slipped from his own tight jeans. Obnoxiously large manhood hard and warm beneath his fingers.

 _“Jesus, Charles.”_ Science Bitch coughed with what little air had been left in his lungs, though he pulled Charlie closer to kiss.

Charlie pulled back unfairly out of reach. _“Mmm, Doc, I want to try something.”_

Dennis stroked slowly, desperate to wait until the end to reward himself for his patience, just as last time. He looked to the camera on his own dresser and gave a wink to whoever was graced to witness this inception unfold.

 _“Yes, yes, anything,”_ Science Bitch begged, desperate to regain contact.

“Dennis?”

Leaping from his bed his laptop fell to the floor with a heavy thud, sliding out of reach as Dennis screamed for Mac to get out of his room. He could have swarn he’d locked it! Mac had been given specific instructions to leave him alone tonight! _That moron! That stupid fucking moron!_

“Mac! Get out! Get the fuck out!”

The door shut faster than it had been opened and Dennis, for the first time in years, prayed that he’d not been caught. That the sinful indulgence had been presumed to be any old generic porn.

His dick had gone soft from the shock and hung in disappointment between his legs as he retrieved his computer. It had survived the fall, Charlie and the Science Bitch now eagerly enjoying the moment that had not so been rudely interrupted for them. Dennis closed the screen, deciding it would be better to wait and watch it alone late that night, when the threat of a roommate knowingly barging in on you to see you jerk off was less likely.

 

* * *

 

“Everyone!” Charlie announced as he entered the bar, “This is Doc.”

The gang all turned from their conversation, mouths agape at the man Charlie dared bring to Paddy’s. They had expected Charlie to hide him away, preventing him from ever knowing the sorts of people he hung around with. But there was Science Bitch, standing awkwardly beside Charlie in the entrance to the pub.

“Hello, nice to meet you all.” Doc’s smile was half hearted, looking to Charlie and silently asking to be released from this uncomfortable situation, but Charlie remained oblivious.

“This is Frank, Mac, Dennis, and Dee.” He pointed to each as he spoke, then slapped Doc’s shoulder to escort him to the stool beside Franks scowling unwelcome face.

“I gotta go make sure the rat traps aren’t full, I'll be right back, ‘kay?” He left before Doc could answer, forced to associate with the members of the gang he had heard oh so much about.

He looked unimpressed in his perfectly tailored pants and expensive sweater, dark beady eyes scrutinizing the misfits before him. Jokes on him, by Paddy’s standards this skinny twerp from across the pond was equivalent to an alien from another universe. He was the weird one here, not the other four.

“So,” Mac opened his mouth and Dee quickly chimed in, ensuring whatever stupidity that was about to escape would be silenced.

“You want a beer?” She practically shouted, and before he could answer one was thrust into his hand as a tentative peace offering.

“Thank you,” he said simply, eyes caught on Frank who was glaring daggers into the man's side.

“Where you from again?”

“South of London.”

Frank grunted in disapproval, taking a swig of his own beer. Everyone did the same. The bars silence was deafening.

“Why Charlie?” Mac finally blurted out.

Science Bitch pursed his lips and shook his head. “Why? What do you mean why?”

“Charlie’s not even gay, plus he’s disgusting. Why would you ever want to bang him?”

“That’s a good point,” Dee muttered into the neck of her beer.

Science Bitch raised his brows and gawked at Mac for a long moment before realizing all four were waiting for an explanation. He scoffed and gave a puzzled smile, “I like him. I don’t know what else you expect me to say.”

Dennis shrugged, playing along with this naivety. “Like _how._ Is it because he’s so disgusting or…” he searched Science Bitch’s face for any clue as to what turned him on about Charlie Kelly, but he merely contorted his face into an upset scowl.

“Because he is charming and we enjoy one another’s company.”

“ _Charming_?” Dee sounded as though she’d never heard the word before, which apparently Science Bitch thought she was a dumb enough bitch to have to explain:

“It means-“

“I know what it means!” She snapped. “But Charlie? You think the alcoholic janitor who kills rats in our basement, gets high off chemical fumes, and smells like a homeless guy is _charming?”_

He stood from his stool, though only gaining a quarter of an inch over Dee. “I think it’s time Charles and I leave.”

Frank however gripped his sleeve. “No, no!” He insisted. “We’re not done here.”

Mac, who had surprisingly held it together fine so far, blurted out “So that means you’re the woman?”

“Pardon?”

“Well, so who’s the chick? I kinda doubt it’s Charlie since he’s got so much hair...”

“Charles!” Science Bitch yelled, pulling free from Frank and escaping to safety at the basement door. “Are you ready yet?”

Footsteps clamoured up the stairs and Charlie appeared, grinning madly. “Yeah, yeah! Oh man you gotta come see this, two of the rats got stuck having sex on my glue trap! They’re just going at it, I don’t even think they realize they’re stuck!”

The gang all exchanged a pitying look, pinning it on Science Bitch.

“You’re right,” Dee said in an accent one could only guess to be a mangled mockery of a cockney accent, “He’s absolutely charming!”

 

* * *

 

 _“That movie was awesome,”_ Charlie had already stripped, standing in his boxers at the foot of the bed. _“I kinda wish it had more aliens though.”_

Science Bitch seemed uninterested in the half naked man waiting at the foot of his bed, instead focusing on carefully untying his shoelaces.

Charlie went on, _“Actually, maybe it’s a good thing there weren’t aliens. When I saw Alien as a kid I had nightmares for years, thought a chest buster was gonna pop out of me at any moment.”_

 _“Hmm,”_ Science Bitch laid back, arms folded over his chest as he looked to the ceiling.

_“You ever watch Alien?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“Are you even listening to me man?”_

The bed shifted as Science Bitch rolled to his side, eyeing Charlie skeptically. Even in the grainy footage, Dennis could recognize the pursed lips. _“Can I give my honest opinion on something, even if you won’t like it?”_

 _“Oh thank God,”_ Charlie threw himself onto the bed. _“I hated it too. It was sooo boring! Like we get it, you’re stuck in space! But it would have been so much better with aliens.”_

 _“What? No, Charles,”_ Science Bitch sighed and rolled onto his back, Charlie propped up on his arm waiting patiently for Science Bitch to speak. _“It’s about your friends.”_

This was a serious turn off. Dennis had expected sex, not a discussion on the gang. But he decided to wait it out, eager to hear Science Bitch shit talk Dee, Mac, and Frank.

_“What about ‘em?”_

_“They’re not very nice to you.”_

Charlie scoffed, smiling down to Science Bitch. _“Yeah, that’s just what we do. It’s just ragging.”_

Dennis could tell he wasn’t buying it. _“They treat you like-“_

_“A grunt?”_

Science Bitch nodded. _“Exactly.”_

 _“Eh,”_ Charlie shrugged, easy smile unwavering. _“They’re my friends though. Like, I don’t know where I’d be without them. Probably dead or something.”_

The video feed was still and silent for so long, Dennis feared it had frozen, but then Science Bitch spoke again.

_“Maybe we should take the day off tomorrow. Take a holiday and go somewhere.”_

_“I can’t, I have Charlie Work.”_

Science Bitch, that cunning, manipulative bastard, drew himself across Charlie’s chest like a lazy cat on a warm window sill. He stretched across him, fingers playing lazily with the scruff of Charlie’s beard, the cat toying with its dinner.

_“Just one day won’t be so bad,”_

Dennis couldn’t believe his eyes or ears, watching on the video footage as the two packed a small suitcase, planning a last minute trip to god-knows where. He refused to believe it. Charlie would never, ever ditch on Charlie Work. To abandon Charlie Work was to throw The Gang’s entire relationship, years of friendships, into the garbage. And Dennis couldn’t believe that.

Charlie was illiterate, filthy, possibly mentally deranged, but he was loyal to the gang. At his core, he was the groundwork of Paddy’s Pub, and this fucking intellectual was royally screwing them all over by putting thoughts into Charlie’s head about taking days off and criticizing _them._ The people who kept Charlie from killing himself, either accidentally or intentionally. _He should be fucking thanking them!_

Chewing on the side of his cheek, Dennis’s eyes never left the bar door that morning, hoping that at any second Charlie would waltz through. Dennis didn’t know what would happen then. Would he accuse him of abandoning all that is The Gang? Would he reveal all that he’d seen and heard for the greater good? Or would Dennis be a forgiving God, allowing Charlie to return to the fold, realizing his mistakes and trusting he had learned from them?

But the hours crept by, and Charlie never came.

Frank and Mac didn’t seem to notice, they were off doing some half-cocked scheme Dennis couldn’t bear to give a shit about after accidentally hearing Charlie and Science Bitch’s plans to run away. Dee was off whoring herself out, something about a boyfriend Dennis _really_ didn’t give a shit about, nor did he want to try. No, Dennis Reynolds was the only one, by some miracle, who noticed or cared Charlie had missed a day of work for the first time in years.

The live stream had been fun, _oh God had they been fun._ But it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. Science Bitch had to go, and Dennis knew it had to be done now or never.

 

* * *

 

“Alright,” Charlie looked so serious that Doc couldn’t help but giggle, unsure why exactly Charlie had brought rope. “You tie me up, lock me in the trunk. Do not, I repeat, _Do. Not._ let me out until we are far enough from Philly I can’t walk back. Got it?”

“I’m not locking you in the trunk!”

“Listen Doc, it’s the only way!”

Doc gaped at Charlie who quickly thrust the rope into his hands and turned around, arms around his back in a practiced position. “Charles, you can't be serious?”

“C’mon, let’s go! I wanna get on the road so we can eat lunch when we get there!”

The rope fell from his hands as Doc stumbled back. “No! No, absolutely not.”

Charlie threw his hands into the air, cursing at the lost time and the poor traffic awaiting them. “It’s fine, okay? It’s the only way I can leave Philly without a panic attack!”

“Charles-“ but Charlie was already ahead.

“Believe me Doc, I can't do it. My friends and I, we’ve tried everything. Drugs, over the counter and otherwise, drinking, meditation, blindfolded with earphones, none of it works as good as knocking me out, tying me up, and keeping me in the trunk. Now, I’m being fair in saying you don’t have to knock me out, but if I’m willing to give up that then you need to be willing to do this.”

Doc pursed his lips and picked the rope from the ground. “If I do this, then you have to agree to work with me on finding other options next time.”

“Deal!” Charlie grinned, looking completely mad, and spun around, arms crossed for Doc to work. “Make sure they’re tight,” he warned. He couldn’t imagine what he’d try to do if he wriggled free.

“Don’t worry, ” Doc muttered in annoyance, “I know how to tie someone up.”

 

* * *

 

His hands shook as he slipped the envelope beneath the door of the apartment. Charlie would be heartbroken, but if he loved this guy as much as he loved that repulsive woman, then he (hopefully) wouldn’t kill him. Charlie wouldn’t be doing Charlie Work if he was serving life without parole, after all.

 

* * *

 

Laughter echoed down the cold hallway, the clamor of keys as they were dropped and quickly plucked from the floor, then the familiar heavy click of a lock. The loud unsympathetic voices returning home disappeared into their apartment, though only marginally less quiet than before. Instead of their voices carrying into each home in a clear wave, they became muffled under the current.

His neighbors weren’t ones to snoop. Most were older, many worked or attended the university too. No one ever gave him any trouble for who he chose to bring home, but this new fella was a bit, well, unexpected.

201 happened to be heading to work one morning when the scruffy man came out of the Brit’s home and smiled, giving a quick ‘hey’ and running down the stairs. He had seemed nice, even if 201 could hear him talking to himself all the way down the steps.

_“Two, four, five, seven-”_

But that was until snooty 208 had been coming home from walking her dog one evening and came across Brit and the scruffy one coming down the flight. The scruffy one had to be pulled out of the way by the other so he wouldn’t obliviously run directly into her. Neither apologized.

The younger guy from 204, directly across from the Brit in 205, had told 201 at the mailbox about how they were always going in and out at all hours of the night. But that wasn’t the worst of it. He’d heard from the girls 207, two other University students splitting rent, that they could hear everything in the apartment from the kitchen. Conversations, arguments, _everything._ According to them, the scruffy one was a janitor and probably a drug dealer. One night they had heard a shouting match, though really only Scruffy was doing the shouting, and they’d considered calling the cops. 201 remembered that night vividly, she too had thought about calling the police. But despite the entire floor hearing the fight, no one called. Since then there had been no disturbances, other than the persistent slamming of 205’s door much to the irritance of 204.

202, an elderly woman and previously a nurse, was always coming over to tell 201 the latest on the couple, though she never seemed to be privy to the gossip. According to her account of 208’s story she had been violently shoved down the stairs, 205 was becoming a crack den, and that they were gang members! It didn’t help that the children in 203 were telling her these things simply to get a rise.

Then there was the retired firefighter and his wife in 206. They once saw the scruffy one from their window smoking pot in the alley behind the building, clear as day. Further, they claimed to have seen him trying to lure a cat over to him.

 _“Likely for some sick ritual!”_ Mrs. 206 said.

 _“Ritual?”_ 201 repeated.

 _“Devils worship,”_ Mr. 206 stated as if he were simply talking about the weather. _“I know the types. Arsonists, criminals. No respect for God or any living thing.”_

201 made an effort to be nice to Scruffy and the Brit after that, saying hello every morning when she and Scruffy happened to leave at the same time, or when she spotted the Brit in the parking garage. Scruffy would reluctantly return the greeting, eyeing her suspiciously, but the Brit always smiled warmly and commented on the weather.

No, 205 seemed alright. The Brit and Scruffy were okay in her book, despite what the neighbors said. But then, there was the twitchy one.

201 had caught him lurking in the hall twice, both times when she knew Brit was out of the apartment. The first time weeks ago wasn’t of much note, though it had been fairly late at night. Twitchy came out just as 201 was going into her own place. She’d smiled at the guy, used to most of 205’s fluctuating inhabitants being friendly. However, Twitchy completely ignored her, wrapped up in something that had him wide eyed and smiling like a funny-farm escapé. The only thing she found odd was 201 could have sworn she saw the Brit and Scruffy turn the corner of the building minutes earlier. But, it was none of her business.

The second time was hours ago, long before Brit and Scruffy had returned home. This time she was leaving, and when she came out found Twitchy at 205’s door, slipping a suspiciously thick envelope beneath the door with shaking hands. Unable to look away, she froze, watching the suspicious event displayed before her until finally, he stood and discovered her watching at the end of the hall. Twitchy’s eyes narrowed, a look she knew meant nothing good, and turned back into her apartment.

 _“Hey!”_ Twitchy called after her, but she had already locked her door behind her. He knocked a few times, and paced behind the door, but seemed to quickly decide it was best to abandon the witness and leave the crime scene. 201 stayed indoors, deciding groceries could simply wait until tomorrow.

Hours later, the familiar laughter of Brit and Scruffy echoed down the hall, the clamor of keys as they were dropped and quickly plucked from the floor, then the familiar heavy click of a lock. The loud unsympathetic voices returning home disappeared into their apartment, though only marginally less quiet than before.

So, maybe scruffy was a drug dealer after all. Didn’t matter, judgement free zone and all, right? It wasn’t the neighbors business. But, 201 added pepper spray to her grocery list, incase Twitchy came snooping a third time.

 

* * *

 

“Oh man, today was great!” Charlie was holding Doc’s hand as they walked up the stairs, this time losing his count as Doc laughed, distracting him.

“Yes, it was.” The bundle of mail in his other arm held tight to his chest as he pulled his fingers free of Charlie’s, fishing in his pocket for the key.

“You know, I’d never been to DC! My class went one year for a field trip, but my mom never let me go on those things,” Charlie watched as Doc struggled with the lock and the bundle of mail, “Like, I know the White House is supposed to be the President's house, but it was kinda meh. Like, who needs that many rooms? Or floors?”

Doc giggled, “I should take you to England sometime. Show you all the royal palaces that sit empty eleven months out of the year. You’d be appalled.”

The door was still shut, Doc fumbling with his keys awkwardly in his left hand and dropping them. Charlie quickly bent to pick them up and unlock the door himself. “How many castles does England have?”

“Hundreds, thank you,” Doc slipped in the door first, tossing his pile of mail onto the small table he kept beside the door and Charlie setting the keys beside it.

“Why?”

“Well, England’s been around a lot longer. Different kings wanted their own castles, sometimes three or four. Then you have the aristocracy and what have you, so now there’s a castle damn near every twenty miles. Most just sitting empty.”

“Now are these for sale?” Charlie asked, his thoughts see through.

Doc laughed as he shrugged of his coat, draping it neatly on the back of his couch. “No, Charles. I’m afraid most are well out of our price range.”

“Huh.” Charlie shrugged, dismissing his thought as quickly as it had arrived. Doc disappeared into the kitchen, wordlessly going to make a mug of coffee and grab a beer for Charlie.

Unwinding his scarf, Charlie threw it onto the arm of the couch and kicked off his wet sneakers. The snow in Philly had gotten way out of line this year, and usually Charlie never bothered with a different winter or summer wardrobe, but _fuck_ he was glad Doc had packed an extra scarf this morning. The sneakers though, they had filled with snow almost instantly and he was eager to get out of them. As he kicked them into the corner beside the door, Charlie spotted a fallen piece of mail and returned it to the stack.

“Doc, you want this mail?”

“Hm? Oh sure,” Doc returned from the kitchen, handing Charlie his beer in exchange taking the paper stack, only to pause as he turned to go. “This one’s for you?”

Charlie scoffed, thinking Doc was trying to be funny. He hadn’t gotten mail, well, ever. In his life.

“No really,” Doc handed the worn out stained letter, the one he’d just placed on the stack, back to Charlie. Sure enough, scrawled neatly on the front, was ‘4 Charlie’.

“Four and for, which one’s the number?”

“F, o, u, r,” Doc explained, taking his mail and disappearing out of sight again.

A swelling of pride filled Charlie, because _fuck yeah! He knew that!_ Whoever sent him this letter was now, officially dumber than Charlie Kelly! It should have said ‘Four Charlie’! _Morons_.

Grinning, Charlie tore the letter open, only for his smile to fall flat.

Doc returned, steaming mug in hand and reading through his phone bill. “Are you full from lunch still or do you want me to heat up some leftovers?”

Charlie was silent, eyes unable to peel away as he shuffled through the photos.

“Charles?” Doc looked up, shocked to find Charlie still standing where he’d left him minutes ago. “Charles, what’s wrong? What is that?”

Charlie didn’t look up from the pictures as he walked forward, passing them silently to Doc and looking to the floor, lost.

“Oh my God,” Doc leapt from his seat, hot coffee sloshing from his mug into the table and his bills. “Charles, this-these aren’t-!”

“I can’t believe it…” Charlie’s eyes were squinting into a distance Doc couldn’t see.

“Charlie, Charlie _look at me!”_ Doc took Charlie’s head in his hands and thankfully he didn’t pull away, meeting Doc’s eyes blankly.

“I should have told you- oh _dear,_ I’m so sorry!”

Charlie seemed to shake out of whatever shock induced funk he was in, pushing Doc’s hands away. “What the hell man! The Waitress?! You’re fucking around with her _too?!”_

“No, okay, listen- it was before you and I- before we were _us._ I went to talk to her after that first night we saw her at the coffee shop. I just wanted to ask about _you!_ The restraining order and if it was safe to be around you,”

“What?!” Charlie screeched, jumping away as Doc reached out to grab at him again. “You didn’t think I was safe?!”

“Charles, she has a _restraining order_ on you! I just wanted to know why! And I know why now, she said you’ve been in love with her for years and just won’t leave her alone! It’s a lot less worse than what I was afraid it would be!”

Charlie’s eyes got huge, hands running through his hair as he muttered to himself. “What the _hell is that supposed to mean?!_ Did you think I was some sort of pervert or something?”

“No! No, Charles, listen she kissed _me!_ I should have told you the minute you and I became- whatever _this_ is and I just forgot!”

“You forgot?” Charlie cursed. “You _forgot_ the most amazing woman in the world kissed you, the love of my life, _and you just forgot?”_

“Oh trust me Charles, she is _not_ my type.”

Suddenly in full defense mode, Charlie shrieked senselessly. “She is a lovely nice lady! Take that back! You take that back right now!”

“Charles, she’s not my type because I’m gay, _remember_?”

“Oh shit,” Charlie went from 100 back down to a 10. “Oh shit, yeah. Wait, so you’re not banging her?”

“God no.”

Charlie released a huff of breath and looked to the ceiling. “And she kissed you…”

“Yes, Charles I was not involved in that _at all._ She just jumped me, for God’s sake. _”_

Charlie nodded to himself a long while, hands digging painfully into his waist, before meeting Doc’s eyes. “Are you, uh, mad I said she was the love of my life?”

Doc blinked at Charlie, and for once, Charlie recognized one of the harder emotions to read on him. Hurt.

“Is she?”

Struggling to explain himself, Charlie stammered. “I mean, um, there’s no like limits to loves of lives or whatever. I mean like, you’re the only other person I’ve _ever,_ and I really mean _ever_ dude, felt like that, _this,_ with.”

“Charles,” Doc looked determined to erase every readable sense of emotion from himself as he spoke, but Charlie had already spotted it. Knew that pain, no matter how deep it was pushed, still aches.

“I love you. You’re one of the very few people I have ever felt this way with, but I need to know now, if you feel the same way. Or if I’m just-“ he paused to swallow his words, thin lips disappearing beneath pink tongue momentarily. He couldn’t finish.

“I love you!”

Charlie had spit it out so fast, so eagerly, that it had startled even him. His heart pounded in his ears and he couldn’t help but grin and he shrugged. “I love you. And I love the Waitress. I can’t deny that, but it’s never going to be between you or her. I swear.”

“Charlie, _how-“_

“It doesn’t matter, ok? But I swear,” Charlie dropped to his knees, hands pressed so firmly against his chest where he felt his heart pounding against it. “I love you as much as her. More than myself, more than _anything_ in this entire universe. I would die for both of you. I would kill for both of you. Asking me to live without one of you is like asking me to breathe underwater. I know it’s awful to say, but I could never choose! I would sooner kill myself before having to choose between you! Please, _please,_ understand that!”

Doc’s facade broke down, his eyes watering as Charlie leapt up, letting him hold Charlie. They stood pressed together for awhile, neither allowing the other to let go.

“I understand” Doc reassured, but Charlie was hesitant to trust it was genuine.

“Thank you.”

“I should have told you,”

“No, no Doc. I get it. She’s slept with like everyone _except_ me so it makes sense she tried to bang you too.”

That had been a joke, but neither laughed.

“Hey, you know what this means?”

Doc finally pulled away, eyeing Charlie through knitted brows. “Hm?”

“Waitress is down for a threesome.”

Doc laughed at that, a single scoff that was the equivalent of a _hell no._

“I’m serious!” Charlie teased. “If she’d fuck you then she’d be having sex with me by proxy.”

“One, I’m very proud you knew the word proxy. Two, that’s not how threesomes work.”

“Then maybe we should invite her over and you can teach me,”

“ _Don’t_ push your luck Charles.”


	6. “Charlie has a Threesome”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie laughed and stood, Dennis eagerly joining in and Mac following suit, uncomfortably. Charlie was holding his arms open, walking towards Dennis with gratitude. Dennis smiles as though it were no big deal, happy to accept Charlie’s thanks, in anyway he saw fit. By then, as Charlie stepped closer, Dennis recognized the eyes didn’t match the smile. That laugh seemed a little too forced, and his arms were narrowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, back with another explicit chapter. Honestly, don’t follow the moral compass I have set out here. Also, don’t drug people. Or put hidden cameras in your friends room. Really, anything Dennis Reynolds does? Just don’t do. Anything I write? Also don’t do. Unless it’s consensual, then you do you. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

 

* * *

 

Mac looked dumbfounded as Dennis waited silently, understanding this was a lot to take in. All at once. Especially on a weeknight.

“You’ve been _filming_ them this whole time?”

“Yes, Mac!” _What was so hard to understand about this?!_

“Like, them having sex and everything?”

“Primarily the sex, yes.”

Mac couldn’t look at him, eyes finding their way back to the screen in bashful curiosity. Dennis could see the sweat beading on his neck as Charlie could be heard over the footage crying out enthusiastically: _“Oh God, Doc! Mm, fuck, yeah! Yeah!”_

Red spread across Mac’s skin, disappearing into the collar of his shirt. He shifted on the couch, forced to close the laptop.

“This is _so_ illegal dude.”

“Yes! I know that Mac!” Dennis ran a hand over his smooth forehead. He needed to stop these outbursts, he was starting to notice frown lines in the mirror. “I just need to know if you will help me.”

Mac chewed on the side of his cheek. “Break up Charlie and Science Bitch? I mean, they seem really happy together…”

Unable to comprehend what he was hearing, Dennis gawked at Mac. Mr. Ultra Catholic, card carrying homophobe. “ _Happy_ ? You think Charlie is going to be happy in _Hell_ Mac?”

That’s all it took. Mac frowned, looking to his hands as if they could argue for him. “Yeah, no, you’re right.”

“Good.” Dennis explained everything. His accidental voyeuristic adventure beneath the bed, the abandonment of Charlie Work, his attempt to use Frank’s stupid photos as sabotage only for a massive failure of sappy love confessions, then admittedly some great footage. But it was time to get serious. They needed to break them up for good, completely crush Charlie’s dreams.

 

* * *

 

A look of disappointment crossed her features as the Waitress opened the door to Mac, standing outside with a bouquet of flowers.

“What do you want?”

“Uh, I’m here for a friend.”

She raised a single eyebrow, but her look of annoyance remained. “And?”

“Uh,” Mac fumbled with the flowers, unkindly shoving them at her chest then handing over an envelope. “A secret admirer asked me to give these to you. Wants to know if you’d go to dinner with him tonight.”

“I’m not going to dinner with Charlie,”

“It’s not Charlie.” Mac assured. “Charlie has no idea about it so please keep quiet.”

A soft relenting smile spread across her cheeks as she opened the card. “Is it Dennis?”

“God no. He thinks you’re gross.”

The door swung to close but Mac just barely held it back. “Wait! Wait, ok. It’s no one from our typical friend group. Trust me, you’ll like him.”

The Waitress opened the door wide enough to scrutinize Mac. “Why?”

“We owe him a favor,” Mac lied.

The Waitress nodded in silent agreement, watching as Mac headed down the hall.

“Oh, wait!” He jogged back. “Wear some makeup, or like anything to cover,” he gestured at his entire face.

The door slammed, and Mac shrugged as he left to meet back up with Dennis.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Doc!”

Science Bitch looked up from his desk, surprised at the tall pale man standing in the doorway of his office. It was his lunch time, and usually if Charlie didn’t drop by he saw no one during this time.

“Mr.-“

“Dennis,” the man corrected with a wide grin. “I’m uh, Charlie’s friend. From Paddy’s?”

“Yes, I remember you. What are you doing here?” He didn’t sound too happy to have been pre-acquainted, but Dennis only upped his charm to accommodate. After all, they could be friendly. Dennis already knew every deep dark secret the Bitch could try to hide.

Strolling in, Dennis leaned against the back of the chair across from the desk. Height gave him an advantage. He may look relaxed, flexing his toned arms in hope Science Bitch might just admire them, but he knew this was how to lure bait. “I was wondering, The Gang and I feel bad we haven’t been too supportive of Charlie and you, and we’d like to treat you guys to dinner tonight. We know a place, everything would be taken care of. All you have to do is show up.”

“Oh,” Science Bitch looked genuinely surprised by the offer. Leaning back into his chair smiling at Dennis. “That would be lovely, Thank you.”

“Great!” Dennis clapped his hands together in triumph. “What time do you get off work?”

“Around five.”

“Alright, well, tell you what. We’ll drop Charlie off at the restaurant around five-thirty, and you just bring yourself.”

“Oh that’s alright, I can drop by the bar and pick Charles up.”

“No, no!” Dennis waved him off, forcing his grin to hold steady, though it was getting difficult. “We will bring him. Don’t worry.”

Reluctantly, Science Bitch gave a nod. “Sounds lovely.”

 

* * *

 

“Why are you doing this again?” Charlie asked, Dennis layering another fancy shirt on the ever growing pile in his arms. They were starting to ache, and he really needed to get the bathrooms cleaned before tonight’s crowd.

“Because,” Dennis said shortly. “Mac and I feel bad we haven’t been supporting you and your new boyfriend. So, we’re treating you to dinner tonight.”

“Like a double date?”

“Yes,” Mac agreed.

“No!” Dennis spit. “We’re taking you and Science Bitch out to dinner as your friends.”

“Oh,” Charlie nodded along, still not understanding. “So why are you buying me clothes?”

“Yeah, Dennis,” Mac looked over to him as Dennis admired a pair of slick expensive pants. “Why are we buying him clothes?”

“Because, we’re making up for doubting him and Doc’s relationship. We want this to last,” Dennis lied. In reality, Dennis had two plans tonight. Breaking Charlie’s heart, and being the warm shoulder to cry on. And bed to lay in. A new, less disgusting Charlie outfit would make that much easier for Dennis.

“Uh huh.” Charlie sighed, readjusting the endlessly growing bundle in his arms. “What time we meeting Doc?”

“Seven.”

“And you went to his work to ask him?” Charlie sounded suspicious, and Dennis _did not_ need all these annoying questions right now.

“Yes, Charlie. I stopped by a few hours ago and he said he’d go home after work, get ready, and we’ll meet up with him.”

“That’s sort of out of his way, like, it’d be easier if he just picked us up to be honest.”

“Charlie!” Dennis was trying not to snap, but the shorter man was really starting to drive him nuts, poking holes in his flawless scheme. “It’s so you both can look your best. That’s why we’re getting you new clothes, that’s why Doc is stopping by his apartment after work. We’re trying to get you laid!”

Charlie looked to Mac, whose head was down as he picked at the hem of his shirt. “Really? Mac? You want me and my gay boyfriend to have sex tonight after our double date?”

Mac stayed silent, glancing to Dennis. Charlie scoffed and rolled his eyes back to the supposed leader of this scheme.

“Fine,” Dennis spit bitterly. “ _I_ want you to get laid. This guy seems really good for you Charlie, and Mac is coming around to it.”

“You really think he’s good for me?”

“Yeah,” Dennis gave his warmest, most manipulative smile he reserved for only the hottest of chicks. “I really do.”

“Thanks man, that means a lot.”

_What a sucker. This was gonna be so easy._

 

* * *

 

Six o’clock, and the Waitress was late. Poor Science Bitch sat at a table all alone, reading his menu and sipping at a glass of wine. From across the room Dennis and Mac crouched behind two menus, chancing a glance only every few minutes.

The restaurant was already packed, filled with the bustling noise of conversation and the kitchen, like always. Despite the hustle and bustle, Science Bitch looked to be enjoying his comfortable spot near the center. Dennis could only scrutinize from a distance, recognizing the same fine clothes he’d been wearing in his office hours earlier. This gentleman, a modern metrosexual, always looked his finest in stuffy sweaters, crisp tailored pants, and expensive shoes. Not once had Dennis seen him looking less than elegant (except in those rare, private moments Dennis shared unknown). How he had wound up with Charlie, who today commented he hadn’t purchased a new pair of sock in ten years, was beyond understanding in moments like these. To Dennis, he was the only one who now saw the same potential this snooty Bitch saw in Charlie. And it gave him pride in thinking soon, Science Bitch would be out of the picture. If only his plan had actually worked.

The plan was simple, Mac would go get Charlie in a few minutes, only for them to walk in on and spot his two loves on a date behind his back. It was just a matter of getting Charlie out of there after they’d been spotted, and convincing him of an affair that had been carried out in secret for weeks. Dennis knew how to spin a tale, and Charlie was just gullible enough to believe him and Mac, the only two people he expected to look out for him in this world.

“Where is that bitch?!” Dennis cursed. “I told you to tell her five-thirty!”

“I did!” Mac insisted. “I don’t know where she is!”

“Wait! Wait!” Dennis hushed. There, coming into the restaurant, was dear old Waitress. It was appalling to think she thought what she wore was date wear. To begin with, the neckline was way to high, the skirt nearly at her knees, and the sleeves? _Sleeves?! On a date?_ No wonder she had been single all these years. The only place that tent of a dress would be appropriate is a funeral if you were 54. “Go, go get her!”

But Mac had already gone to initiate part two of their plan, staying out of Science Bitch’s line of sight as he crossed the restaurant. Dennis watched as Mac pointed to her blind date, explaining something frantically. She looked unsure, whispering something in frustration back to Mac. He turned to Dennis for help, but all he could do was shake his head, unsure what the hold up was.

Finally, Mac took her by the arm and forced her over to the table, breaking his cover.

“Hey,” he announced so loudly Dennis could hear him clearly from across the room. “You two know each other!”

As Science Bitch looked up, Mac bolted, abandoning the Waitress to give any sort of an explanation she could offer, which was nothing.

Dennis held his head in his hands as Mac proceeded to blow both their covers, returning to their table and sitting with a panicked look. “Dude, I think our cover's blown.”

“Of course it’s blown!” Dennis screeched, then took a deep breath to regain himself. Others in the restaurant were beginning to stare. He glanced over to Science Bitch and the Waitress. She’d sat down, and they both were whispering to one another as they spared glances to Mac and Dennis. The whole plan had to be patched back together now, but at least the pieces were there.

Dennis stood without an explanation, walking to their table with a nervous smile and forced chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

“Hey guys,”

“Dennis, what the hell is this?” Waitress demanded.

“Ok, listen,” he held his hands in defense trying to reassure them of _something. That this wasn’t a total disaster?_

“We wanted you two to talk this out. I don’t know how well you know each other-“

“Well enough to know he’s gay, and that this is one of the worst blind dates I’ve ever been paired with.” Waitress spat.

“Ok, do you know he’s currently banging Charlie?”

Science Bitch looked mortified, looking up to Dennis in horror. Dennis had to admit he liked that look. “That’s why we brought you two together. You need to sort this out, for Charlie’s sake.”

Total BS, but they seemed to buy it. Dennis began to back away as Waitress immediately began: “That’s easy, you can have him!”

Thank God they hadn’t noticed, caught up in glaring at Dennis and not watching his hands. As he sat back down across from Mac, he eagerly waved it under his nose with a chuckle.

“What’s that?”

“A gift from my friend Molly,”

Mac squinted. “Molly? We don’t know anyone named Molly?”

“Ecstasy! Mac! The drug?”

“Oh shit,” Mac snatched it from his hand and looked in horror at the table across the room. Waitress and Science Bitch were both taking long drinks of their glasses of wine, no doubt attempting to drown the awkwardness of the situation.

“Dude!” Mac turned back to Dennis, who was smiling proudly at his sleight of hand. “You _drugged_ them?!”

Dennis smiled, genuine in his pride. “By the time Charlie gets here they’ll be so horny they won’t be able to keep their hands off each other. Gay or not.”

“Dude,”

Dennis was shocked to find Mac still looked horrified. “What? Oh come on Mac, it’s fine.”

Mac leaned forward to whisper urgently. “Dude, you can’t just drug people without telling them!”

“Of course I can,” Dennis scoffed. “I just did. And they won’t know. Now can we enjoy our dinner before you have to go get Charlie?”

Mac stood, looking down at Dennis with a look Mac had never directed at him before: disgust. “I’m not hungry.”

A blatant lie. Dennis knew for a fact Mac was starving. He’d taken him off his diet suppressors three days ago so he’d gain back some muscle, and ever since he’d been eating non-stop. It was disgusting, really, but Dennis knew he needed the calories with his new workout regimen.

“I’m going to get Charlie,” and without a goodby, Mac left Dennis alone at the table. In shock at the gaul of Mac, judging him for doing what was necessary.

Despite Dennis reassuring himself all through his dinner that _he_ was the one who was right, that it was Mac who was wrong, something twisted deep in his core. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but he recognized it had something to do with this whole debacle.

Chancing a glance to Charlie’s loves, he could spot the early effects of his handy work. Interestingly enough, Science Bitch was more receptive to Waitress’s advanced than anticipated. Not just because he was supposedly only into men, but because she was gross, and Dennis thought Science Bitch would be above her. Maybe it was the gay thing. Maybe his taste in women wasn’t as refined as Dennis’s, who had a lifetime to know what was good and what was not.

A delicate hand gripped Science Bitch’s arm, and laughter erupted from the table. Others were staring at their unwarranted enthusiasm. A waiter, looking stressed, politely told them to please be respectful of the other customers.

They loudly agreed, apologizing sincerely to everyone around them. Then, Science Bitch leaned forward and whispered something to Waitress. Dennis wished he’d been closer to hear, because a few heads from the table over turned to stare, and Waitress had gone red from head to toe. She thought for a minute, then nodded, wicked grin spread across white teeth. They both stood, Science Bitch helping Waitress into her coat, and then left.

At first Dennis thought they were dining and dashing, something he figured was top criminal for such a gentleman. But, the waiter arrived to Dennis with the bill and a note.

 _“Don’t forget to tip.”_ Signed with two sets of initials he didn’t recognize.

He fumbled for his phone.

 

* * *

 

_“Mac, are you there with Charlie?”_

“Yeah?” Mac looked over to Charlie in the passenger seat beside him, dressed up in an over priced suit, shiny shoes, too tight crooked tie, and hair the usual wild matted mess. He looked pale from nerves, shaking his leg and chewing his nails.

_“Mac, this is great. Science Bitch and the Waitress just took a cab back to his place. I can’t believe this! You need to bring Charlie there now. The plan worked out better than I could have hoped!”_

“Yeah.” Mac felt his heart sink. Charlie would be crushed.

_“Good God, you’re not still mad at me, are you?”_

“Yeah, Dennis. We’ll meet you there.”

When he hung up, he found Charlie eying him suspiciously. “What’s up? Doc’s coming right?”

“Yeah, yeah. We gotta go pick him up though.”

“Why, is he alright?” Charlie sounded genuinely worried, and Mac couldn’t help the guilt building like a wall of bricks inside himself. Heavier and heavier.

“Yeah, totally.” Mac swallowed, then looked to Charlie sympathetically. “Hey, Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

“You know you’re like, my best friend right?”

“Yeah man.”

Mac hesitated, but spoke slowly so he knew nothing would get lost in his translation or Charlie’s understanding. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am.” Charlie assured. “Doc’s the nicest person I’ve ever met. He just _gets me.”_

Mac nodded. That wasn’t what he’d meant. He wanted Charlie to be happy, but how could he be happy if he was destined for Hell? It didn’t make sense. Unable to say anymore, Mac just drove.

 

* * *

 

As they pulled up outside Science Bitch’s apartment, Mac was thankful for how dark it was. He couldn’t see Charlie, and Charlie couldn’t see him. He knew he looked miserable. He felt it. He felt like he was delivering Charlie, clueless, sweet Charlie, to the slaughter.

“Go upstairs and get him,” Mac muttered.

Without question, Charlie hopped out of the car with a “ _Be right back!”_ Disappearing into the building. The Range Rovers driver door popped opened, Dennis standing there with a triumphant smirk. “Move over.”

Mac did as told, sliding across the seat so Dennis could return to his baby. He ran his fingers along the steering wheel, caressing it’s stitching and seeming pleased that Mac had returned her unharmed.

“They’re in there.” He looked so proud, like a cat carrying around a bird they’d caught and mauled, all for the fun of it. “I checked the camera on my walk here. I couldn’t see them, but they were whispering sweet nothings to each other from the other room. I gotta say Mac, you should be pretty proud right now.”

“Why?” Mac looked like he was gonna be sick, glancing to the apartments above in worry.

“Well, you’re always going on about how gay people just ‘haven’t met the right woman yet’. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you may have a valid point. You didn’t just save Charlie’s soul tonight, you saved Science Bitch’s too.”

It was all said to cheer Mac up. Dennis knew damn well that sexuality was far more complex than just black or white, gay or straight. But Mac didn’t, and he was sure using religion and Mac’s own words would cheer him up, but they seemed to have the opposite effect.

Mac had folded in on himself, leaning against the car door like he was about to ralf. He stayed quite, actively avoiding Dennis’s scrutinizing gaze.

He should feel good about this, right? Like Dennis said, he just saved two souls. He should feel pumped! Like God’s faithful servant! But instead he felt even guiltier than when he would watch the volleyball scene in Top Gun late at night. Like he’d just condemned Charlie to Hell himself, rather than saving him.

_“Doc?”_

It was Charlie’s voice. Mac glanced to see Dennis had his phone in his hand, watching intently with lower lip caught firmly between his teeth.

“Is that-“

“Shh!” Dennis nodded, leaning over to show Mac the live footage.

It was dark in the bedroom, but Mac could recognize the grainy shapes of Science Bitch and the Waitress sitting on the edge of a bed, giggling. The Waitress had her claws behind his neck, pressing firm kisses across his skin. He looked uncomfortable, trying desperately to slow her down.

 _“Doc?”_ Charlie called again.

_“In here Charles,”_

Dennis frowned, mouth releasing his lip in agony. “No! _No!”_

Mac didn’t understand. If they were cheating on Charlie, why would they call him in?

Light entered the room, and Mac could finally see the figures fully unclothed. Charlie entered slowly, gawking at the sight before him.

 _“Surprise,”_ Doc stood from the bed, peeling away from the Waitress. He stumbled, smiling unfazed by the falter. Without explanation, he pulled Charlie over, pressing a long passionate kiss to his lips and moaning sinfully at the touch.

The phone went black, Dennis infuriated by his failure. He’d been convinced this would work! When they left together he thought by some stroke of luck they wouldn’t have to formulate a fictional affair, but all he’d done is deliver Charlie to two ecstasy filled lovers. _Fuck!_

Mac shifted in his seat, looking over to Dennis shyly. “Want to go watch them on your laptop?”

 _Well,_ Dennis smirked, unable to look to Mac knowing he’d have that bashful virginal smile that was all too tempting to strike. _At least he and Mac would get something from it._

 

* * *

 

“Doc?”

The apartment was pitch black, and if it weren’t for the front door being left unlocked, Charlie would have assumed no one was home. Switching on the lights to the living room, he found a trail before him. Doc’s coat, which he always slung neatly on the couch, was wadded on the floor. A pair of woman’s heels a few feet later. Then a tie. With each step, Charlie seemed to find part of a wardrobe, only half he recognized as Doc’s.

As he approached the bedroom door, he heard the soft giggling of Doc, whispering for someone to hush and slow down. Charlie could feel the blood leaving his face, settling into his gut. “Doc?”

“In here Charles,” he called from behind the door. Slowly, Charlie entered, only to be struck still by the sight before him.

Doc, and the Waitress. Both naked and sitting on the edge of Doc’s bed. At first, Charlie was in a state of confusion. He pictured his death, back in the car with Mac driving, and which ever way this went he could either be in heaven or hell.

“Surprise,” Doc beamed, pulling away from the grabby hands of Waitress, only to stumble forward and pull Charlie into a wordless open mouth kiss.

Clueless as to what was going on, Charlie could only let it happen, Doc moaning into his mouth with unwarranted eagerness. Behind him, Charlie was watching the Waitress watch them with curiosity, completely nude.

_This had to be a fucking dream._

When Doc pulled away to breathe, Charlie tried to escape the tangling arms. He needed answers, but Doc was dragging him back to the bed, unable to focus on forming words.

The Waitress was less eager to reach out at Charlie, instead sliding behind Doc on the bed and whispering (albeit, louder than she knew) into his ear. “I don’t think he knows it’s real.”

A wicked grin spread across her face, eyeing Charlie like a new exciting game she’d never before considered. “You two really in love?”

Charlie could only swallow, his mouth going dry. He gave a short nod, but Doc was impatiently pulling at his arm to return their mouths. He had to resist. He had to know _why. How._

“Are you two drunk?” Charlie had been around enough drunk people to recognize that’s _not_ what this was, but he had no idea what else it could be. Doc certainly wasn’t the type to do drugs. He got sick just taking Benadryl.

They ignored him, Doc finally releasing his arm only to pull Charlie forward by the waist of his pants. He stumbled, able to catch himself before he toppled the three of them off the bed and onto the floor. Knees pressed into the mattress, Charlie was forced to straddle Doc’s lap as he was fondled between the legs by an over enthusiastic lover.

Waitress licked her lips and nipped at Doc’s ear, never leaving Charlie’s gaze. Whatever this was, Charlie had caught up, dick pressing tightly in his new unforgiving slacks. Doc’s hand moving relentlessly against it the fabric didn’t help.

“Show me.” She cooed.

“What?” Charlie croaked, voice suddenly caught in his throat.

“If you two are in love, I wanna see it.”

Doc seemed to be completely unaware of everything beyond Charlie, teeth firmly pressed into the crook of his collar bone, moaning at every new taste of skin as though he were starving for it.

Charlie didn’t understand what she meant though, couldn’t tear his eyes away from her glossy ones. Something about this seemed so off, like the world was spinning the wrong way and he was the only one who felt it.

“How?”

“I want him to fuck you.”

He couldn’t breathe, Doc was suffocating him and Waitress was killing him with her look, daring him to challenge her. But Doc had finally pulled away enough to speak, not completely lost to the high yet. “We haven’t- just me,” he hissed, finally successful in unbuttoning Charlie’s shirt. _New skin, new feelings with every inch._

“There’s a first for everything,” and without warning drew herself from the bed. Charlie watched her until his neck ached to turn, losing her behind himself. Cold hands slid across his bare chest, swirling the trail of saliva Doc had left in his own dazed passion. Then, fingers splayed, dipped beneath the waist of his pants. Doc noticed, quick to release the zipper of the over crowded space.

Leaning back onto her shoulder, Charlie couldn’t help but whine at the scent of her hair. Lavender and lemon, she’d used the same organic shampoo for years, but he’d never been able to smell it on her. Like a dream, here it was wafting through his senses and taking away all common sense.

The feeling of Doc’s hands joining in with hers, stroking lightly and building him up to the point it hurt, only for them to let go. Though, he could hear Doc groan in protest as her hand held him back by a firm grip to his hair.

“I want him to fuck you,” she said again.

Charlie could only nod, knowing Doc was so desperate at this point, Charlie felt he _had_ to appease him. And he would do anything they asked him to, far worse than what she was requesting now.

Hands slipped over his legs, pulling down the stiff fabric. He kicked off his shoes, letting another set of hands pull his shirt and jacket from his shoulder and tie from around his head. The warm embrace of the waitress behind him disappeared, and momentarily Charlie feared this had been some sort of crazed sex dream, and at any moment he would wake. He gripped tightly to Doc, fearing he too would vanish.

But from the corner of his eye, Waitress had returned behind Doc, whispering into his ear. Doc pulled back, Charlie falling with him so his back was to the bed, Charlie on his hands and knees above him. Caressing Doc’s head, she passed something to Charlie. The plastic bottle of lube.

Doc and Waitress were absorbed in one another, though the command had been clear. Charlie was to prepare himself while his two lovers got to know each other better. Watching in amazement as the Waitress leaned down to press passionate kisses to Doc’s jaw, Charlie couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy.

Doc, who clearly had no interest in her beyond sharing Charlie, had received most of her affections. It was as if Charlie was the guest to their bedroom, not her.

The cap clicked opened, Charlie roughly slipping his hand behind him. He’d watched Doc do this so many times before, but still shook as he pushed into himself, struggling to make room. It hurt, and he hissed in pain as he struggled to stretch himself open, but he wanted to go fast, to distract Doc and Waitress from their own passions. He wanted to be the center of their attention.

He’d regret his haste later, but in the moment the pain wasn’t important. After he’d gotten his second finger inside, stretching just enough to ensure there was _some_ give, he positioned himself over Doc. Just like he’d watched Doc that first night, he gripped his cock and angled just right to lower himself over it.

“Oh _fuck,_ ” he moaned, feeling it stretching his insides until they burned. Neither Doc or him were what Charlie would consider well endowed, but _fuck_ it felt fucking huge inside him!

His mouth fell open as he reached the base, unable to lift himself to start again, frozen with Doc’s cock shoved up his ass. He could only sit there, stretched wide in pleasurable agony.

“Charles,” he blinked open his eyes, finding Doc and Waitress staring in amazement. He felt a blush stretch across his skin, the eyes of the only people he could ever love more than himself were all for him. Being the center of attention was always a desire, but whenever he got there he felt the affection was misplaced. This was his greatest example of that.

“Oh _fuck,_ Doc, how do you do this every night?” He felt so vulnerable, unable to move and seen by the entire world.

“Practice,” He stammered, fingers stretching across Charlie’s hips. A soft thrust and Charlie groaned, pain followed by ripples of pleasure throughout his body.

Doc looked like he was about to lose it, but as always, he forced himself to gain a meager ounce of control. “Are you alright?”

Charlie could only nod.

“You’ll tell us if you need to stop?”

Another nod.

Another thrust. Charlie couldn’t hold back his scream, quickly biting his knuckles to distract. Another one, this one nearly sending him flying.

Then, soft lips unfamiliar to his own, pressed gently to the corner of his mouth. Waitress was leaning across Doc, pushing Charlie’s fist away to gain access to his mouth. His hand found solace running through her hair and gripping onto her neck, using her as support as Doc unrelentingly buried himself into Charlie, over and over again.

“Fuck Charlie,” she said through her teeth. “You’re doing so fucking good.”

He whined, body going hot with the praise and her hands on his chest, playing aimlessly with his nipples as he struggled to catch his breath.

“More,” He begged, but he didn’t know what more they could give. Doc was so lost in the moment, the feelings, that Charlie didn’t think they could bring him back down to earth. But Waitress, she was hyper aware of all that was going on.

Taking his free hand, she brought it to rest at the hot slick between her legs, letting Charlie’s fingers explore. Her breath hitched as he rubbed circles, trying desperately to show her what he was going through. To help his cause, his other hand slipped from her hair down to her chest, squeezing her breast to elicit a soft moan. To hear that was like hearing an angels choir, encouraging him to wiggle his fingers deeper, thumb tracing circles at her base.

Doc’s hips had lost their slow rounded thrusting, now replaced with the sporadic attempt to be first at the finish line. Charlie could feel his legs trembling beneath him as he released, holding Charlie firmly down until the wave had passed. But Charlie wasn't ready to end just yet.

Waitress was riding his fingers, moaning at every touch Charlie could give her with only two hands and hips locked far away. He rubbed his thumb harder, pulling that string of moans from her belly and feeling her clench down on him, entrapping his hand firmly between her thighs as she rode out her own flood of waves.

His two lovers collapsed lazily on the bed, staring up in admiration at Charlie. They were too exhausted to lift a finger to help his own needs, and he was _so close_. Back to the center of attention, Charlie pulled himself off Doc just enough to escape the softening cock in his ass, and perch comfortablely farther up his stomach. Then, stroking his dick with slick fingers that had previously been crushed blissfully between the Waitress’s thighs.

As he ran his warm fingers over himself, he could feel Doc’s cum sliding out of him onto Doc’s chest, could smell the stench of sex and sweat, and could see the beautiful entwined bodies before him, looking up to Charlie as if everything was right in the world. Unable to hold back any longer, he felt the tension in his entire body release, his legs shaking at the rapture.

He lowered himself shakily between Doc and Waitress, happy to feel the soft gentle caress of hands greeting him on his way down.

 

* * *

 

 _“Charlie?”_ A warm hand gripped his shoulder, squeezing tightly and shaking away the last of his sleep. He blinked, focusing on the world coming into view before him. A crisp white ceiling and blonde hair tickling his nose.

The Waitress stood above him, smiling. Now he knew this was a dream. That it was one of those weird ones where you dream it’s just like every other day, except for the little details of your life.

“Charlie, I’m going to work. See you around, ok?”

She leaned down and pressed a feather light kiss to his nose, and vanished. He wasn’t sure how much later it was when he did wake, but he found the bed was empty. He sat up and angled his head to peek out the door, spotting Doc on the couch drinking his coffee.

He looked like the living dead, to be honest; Pale, dark circles beneath his eyes, and lips pursed though there seemed to be nothing causing the annoyance etched on his face. _Hangover?_ But Charlie had never seen him drink enough to be drunk. Unless last night-

He remembered it now! It wasn’t a dream!

Leaping from the bed, Charlie ran to the living room, unaware he was completely naked, or at the very least not caring. Doc was clutching his head as Charlie stood in front of him, as though he’d been struck with a hammer as he ran by.

“Did we- last night?!”

Doc nodded, looking unhappily to Charlie. “Shhh,” he hushed, holding his head in his hands. “Quietly, please.”

“So we, with the Waitress?! _Oh my God?!”_

Doc could only nod, though even that had to be cut short as the room began to spin.

“Are you sick or something?”

He shook his head, blinking up at Charlie at a loss for words. “I honestly don’t know. It feels like food poisoning, but last night was so strange I wonder if it was something else.”

Charlie ran a hand over his stomach as he sat himself beside Doc. “What the hell was that? Like _how?_ At first I thought you were drunk but, you didn’t _seem_ drunk? Did you take something?”

Leaning over, Doc rested his head on Charlie’s shoulder. Soft black hair tickling his neck with each breath. “I don’t know.”

“What did the Waitress say?”

Doc shrugged, nestling in deeper. “Not much, she woke up before I did. It was a bit of a shock to find her making tea in my kitchen this morning.”

Charlie laced their fingers and sunk deeper into the couch. “But last night, how did you two...?”

“Your friends,” Doc said with a tinge of bitterness. “Told her they had a blind date set up and as for myself, that they were treating us to dinner. As she and I were sorting it out, next thing I knew everything just got all fuzzy and I remember asking her to come over and surprise you. I think originally the plan was to just show you that the three of us could get along, no hard feelings. But she- well she’s very persistent. And then I remembered what you’d said the other day and, well.”

“My friends?” Charlie repeated. _Why the hell would they orchestrate a threesome for him? They thought the Waitress was gross…_

“Mhm. The tall one and the religious one. I can’t remember their names.”

_Dennis and Mac?! That was even more confusing. They were supposed to be going on a double date last night with just Doc and Charlie. Why would they plan this?_

“Doc?” Charlie jiggled his shoulder, waking him once more to ask a final question. “What time did they say they’d drop me off at the restaurant?”

“Five-thirty, I believe.”

Charlie was piecing it together, could see their plan had fallen apart. There were still chunks of reasons _why_ missing, but Charlie saw the big picture here. And he gently slipped away from Doc.

“Where are you going?”

“Uh, the bar. I gotta get some work done.”

Doc blinked up at him, watching as he headed to the door and began to swing it open.

 _“Charles!_ Get back in here, you’re naked!”

_Oh shit._

He slammed the door, praying the lady with that stupid yapping dog hadn’t noticed. He ran back to the bedroom and gathered his clothes, dressing as he walked through the apartment.

“Hey, while I’m out I know a good hangover burrito place. Want one?”

“No, thank you Charles.” Doc leaned across the back of the couch, watching Charlie dress in amusement.

“Alright,” and Charlie couldn’t help himself. He ran over and pressed a firm scratchy kiss to those thin teasing lips. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

And with that promise, he slipped out into the hall. He nodded to the dog lady as she looked on horrified, as he hopped on one socked foot trying to slip a tight uncomfortable shoe on. As he headed down the stairs, struggling with the other one on the third step, the nicer lady from the other end of the hall was coming up. She smiled knowingly, and gave him a wink.

“Hey,” he called after. She stopped at the top step, looking down at him and over to 208’s scowling face. “Did you see anyone sneaking around here lately?”

201 frowned and came back down the stairs to talk to him at an even level. “There was this guy, I’ve seen him hanging around a few times at your apartment.”

Charlie raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? What’s he look like?”

“Tall, pale. Kinda looks like a tweaker.”

“He got tall hair?”

“Tall… hair?” She repeated.

“Yeah, like-“ he combed his hands up through his hair, trying to style it to show what he meant.

“Yeah, yeah.” She agreed. “He was hanging around your door the other day. Slipped something underneath.” She leaned in real close, forcing Charlie to pull away to maintain some of his own air. “If you’re selling drugs, could I get some pot? For a friend.”

Charlie frowned, looking this girl strangely up and down. “I don’t sell drugs,”

She shrugged and headed back upstairs, waving at 208 who was hiding behind the corner listening to every word.

Shaking off the strange accusation, Charlie straightened what he could of his crumpled suit and continued his journey down the stairs and to Paddy’s Pub.

 

* * *

 

This was getting weird. He’d originally brought Mac into this, thinking it would all be over and everything would go back to like it was before. Now, well shit now Mac _knew._ He knew about Plan B, all the footage he had, and that Dennis was determined to put an end to it. And Mac wouldn’t say anything about it. Just kept staring from across the bar and every time Dennis would approach, scurry away.

That wasn’t even the worst part. No, Mac actively avoiding him for just a day was a long needed break from their emotional dependency. But last night had been weird, not for Dennis. No, jerking off to that fucked up Devil’s Triangle had been amazing. But it had obviously been too much for Mac.

Like, Dennis knew. He’d known since high school. Mac was gay, and would never come out. And that was fine. Dennis pretended he didn’t notice the constant looks of admiration, or care Mac watched his sex tapes, or that the two of them had jerked off with each other in the same room more than a few occasions. He was The Golden God after all, and God’s needed devotion. Mac gave that to him. Endless love and desire. That’s all Dennis wanted in life, honestly.

Last night though, Mac seemed to have scared himself. Watching that lascivious footage seemed to have opened a stitch in Mac’s sexuality that had now begun to unravel since. He’d been reluctant to join in, until Dennis already had himself out and was prepared for the climax of the show. Only then did Mac _finally_ give into the temptation and release his own painfully hard dick from his jeans.

But he wouldn’t look at the damn footage. He’d glanced at it, wincing at the degenerate sight before him, only to look away. Finding solace in his eyes landing on Dennis. Not just his stiff cock being gently caressed beneath his hand, but even his face. Searching for something Dennis just wasn’t gonna give him.

Since then, it was like Mac had looked in a mirror and finally realized that sexual urge he’d buried so deep down was there, lingering. Building like waves after an earthquake and heading back to the shore faster than he could build a barrier to stop them. All because of one jerk off with Dennis over those stupid tapes.

This wasn’t something Dennis needed right now, on top of formulating a new plan to bring this charade to a screeching halt. Mac was gonna have to sew himself back up, convince himself he was straight or just accept it and move on. This wasn’t Dennis’s problem. Charlie was.

“Guys!” The door to Paddy’s Pub swing open, and Dennis couldn’t help but wince at the sight of him. Charlie, wearing that crumpled suit like a badge of honor. “ _Look at me!”_ It read, _“I just had sex with the two most important people in my life!”_ It was revolting.

Dee had noticed the weird chemistry between everyone all morning, pointing it out needlessly. She opened her big mouth as Charlie came and sat _way too close_ to Dennis. Something was up.

“What’s with the suit? Big night?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Charlie said, grinning up at Dennis. _He knew. The fucking twerp knew._

“What, you two gay guys bang each other’s butts then paint each other in glitter.”

Dee laughed at her own ‘joke’ like it had been the funniest thing ever, looking to the rest of the bar which looked away in dead silence.

“Pretty close, yeah.” Charlie was still smirking up at Dennis, who was now squirming under the gaze. “Hey, Doc says thanks for dinner last night.”

Frank, who was sitting at the far end of the bar, finally became interested in the conversation. “What, you paid for their dinner?”

“No,” Dennis tried to interject, but Charlie talked over him.

“Oh don’t be humble! Mac and Dennis took Doc and me on a double date. Then paid for us! It was _so_ nice!”

Eyebrows raised as everyone looked between Mac and Dennis, though Dennis had his eyes locked with Charlie’s. _What are you playing at little man._

Dee got to the wrong conclusion first. “Are you and Mac?”

“No!” It was Mac now, running from where he’d been hiding at the back of the bar to stop that thought right there. “No! It was Dennis’s idea! I just wanted a free meal! I still don’t support this gay thing!”

Charlie batted his accusing finger from his face. “You’re the one who’s gay. Doc says I’m bicycle.”

“What?” Dennis sequined at Dee, hoping she would translate.

“Bicycle.” Charlie repeated, thinking he was the smartest one in the room. “It means I like guys _and_ girls. I’m half gay.”

“Charlie, that’s bi-sexual.” Dennis hissed. _This moron had succeeded in catching Science Bitch how, exactly?_

“No, no.” Charlie insisted. “It’s bicycle. Cause, like a bicycle, it can be ridden two ways.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Mac muttered, and for once today, he and Dennis were back in the same footing.

Charlie only shrugged, looking smugly to Mac and Dennis on either side of him. A silent look they recognized as _we need to talk. Alone._

Charlie was the first to escape. Making his way to the office claiming he had to check on cleaning supplies. Mac was next, and least subtle, proclaiming he was going to go work on his new karate move and no one could bother him. Dennis simply stood and left, following the two minutes later. Frank had already been absorbed into what was on TV, and though Dee looked suspicious, she stayed behind the bar. At least, until after they had all gathered in the office.

When he shut the door behind him, he found Charlie lounging in the office chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. Mac and Dennis stood behind the desk, trying to maintain a look of innocence.

“What are you two playing at?”

Dennis shrugged, Mac looking to him desperately, begging him to take the lead in this,  _since it was his stupid plan._ “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Charlie rolled his head back into the chair, looking way too pleased with himself. “Last night, you hooked me up with a threesome. Why?”

 _Oh shit._ Dennis couldn’t help but tug at his lips. Charlie _didn’t_ know. How could he spin this? Dennis shrugged, trying to play humble. “We thought you’d enjoy it.”

“Uh Huh. What’d you give them?” Charlie was smiling, obviously appreciative.

Mac spoke up, and Dennis really wished he’d just _shut up._ “Nothing! We didn’t give them anything. They just wanted a threesome.”

Charlie scoffed. “Doc’s gay, and he likes kinky shit. But a threesome with the woman I love as much as him that he barely knows is a bit left field. Plus the Waitress has never, once in her life, wanted to have sex with me. You must have given them something _Dennis.”_

He had flashbacks to middle school, standing in the principal's office being asked why he’d stuck gum in Dee’s hair. Would he get it if he just said why? Or should he lie?

But Charlie, Charlie would get it. He was grateful. He looked like he was about to embrace Dennis for the gift he’d given him. That could be useful.

“Ecstasy. Fun, right?”

Charlie laughed and stood, Dennis eagerly joining in and Mac following suit, uncomfortably. Charlie was holding his arms open, walking towards Dennis with gratitude. Dennis smiles as though it were no big deal, happy to accept Charlie’s thanks, in anyway he saw fit. By then, as Charlie stepped closer, Dennis recognized the eyes didn’t match the smile. That laugh seemed a little too forced, and his arms were narrowing.

Dennis didn’t see these things until it was too late, and Charlie had his palms wrapped tightly around his throat.

_“You fucking bastard! I’m gonna kill you! You’re gonna be a dead bastard!”_

It all delved into incoherent screaming, Dennis unable to keep up as he was slammed into the office door, only for it to give way and the two of them tumble out. They rolled around on the floor, Charlie’s hands locked tight as Mac, Dee, and Frank fought to pull him off.

 _“Bastard! Bastard!”_ Charlie kept screening, slamming Dennis’s head over and over again into the hardwood floor, knocking all coherent thoughts from his head. His throat was tight, chest burning from the air trapped inside, desperate to escape and be replaced. Despite his manicured nails scratching at Charlie’s face, there was no give. A nagging fear crawled to the front of his brain, hissing _this is how you die._

Then, release. Charlie had been ripped away, screaming and flailing against Mac who had used his entire weight to pin him down on the floor besides Dennis. Able to breathe, he heard the rattle as he swallowed a taste of sweet oxygen, hacking as he rolled to his side to droll unseen by the others. The pub was spinning, greens and browns mixing until they found their rightful place again. He could hear the shouting above him, Charlie declaring: _“This isn’t over Dennis!”_

The bar fell into silence, Mac at his side trying to help him up, but Dennis shoved him away. He could stand, he could get his own beer. He didn’t need their help.

_This, this was war._


	7. “The Plan in Action: Part 1”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, Doc,” Dennis slid into the seat across and Doc feared he may kick Charlie. But, he looked on with sunken eyes and an all to pleased grin, unaware Charlie was pressing his entire body between Doc’s calves, inches away from Dennis’s feet. “Where is Charlie tonight?”
> 
> His voice was stuck in his throat, barely able to choke out a “Oh, you know Charles. He’s usually not far.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to this fucked up fic, longer chapter with (seemingly) not much going on. Hope ya’ll enjoy.

 

* * *

 

The apartment had been deathly quiet with Charles gone. Despite his wicked stomachache and the persistent painful throb behind his eyes, Doc found it to be a long needed day off. He took the time to settle in on his couch and read, work on a new lecture, and simply relax.

Charlie Kelly, in all his excitement and adoration, had been exhausting.

He understood why everyone he knew balked at the idea he enjoyed a serious relationship with him. A janitor, who barely held a high school diploma worth keeping, and seemed to lack pension for any of the ‘finer’ things in life. But his friends, well _acquaintances_ to be honest, were wrong. He had been wrong too, at first. At surface level, yes, Charlie Kelly seemed all those things. But it was as if he’d been overlooked his whole life by those around him. A passionate creator, capable of reading others better than many could read themselves, and despite his misconceptions about most things, was genuine. Doc adored these traits, and was willing to accept the bad with the good.

To be honest, he felt like Charles was life reaching out and giving him one last try at the whole love affair business.

There had been men before, of course, in London and Quebec. Some he genuinely loved, others he had put up with for too long. It was difficult, finding romance when you weren’t one for clubs or bars, and when he did find ones he liked, the feeling was rarely mutual. But here was this strange scruffy man that fate had sent to him with a ribbon saying, _“It’s not what you expected, but trust us.”_

The men before Charles were what he would have considered his ‘type’. Nice vanilla men from middle to upper class backgrounds, usually well educated like himself, and knowledgeable about everything. Conversations with them always followed a format. _“Where did you go to college?” “Where did you grow up in London?” “What do your parents do?”_ All code for class and privilege, and in those circles he barely made the cut. He was always clawing his way through the other well bred bastards just to be noticed. When he’d left London, that had changed some. But in Quebec he lost his contacts, what few friends he held in the community were now 5000 miles away.

‘Shy’ wasn’t a word he liked to use to describe himself, but he certainly wasn’t the first hand to raise in a crowd. In Quebec, he’d tried to ‘put himself out there’. He went to clubs and bars, downloaded a few apps, met a few men. Unlike London there wasn’t a scoff when he spoke about growing up in a suburban area with a barrister mother and police officer father with no connections. There had been a need to keep up the chase, however, constantly following a strict format of lunches, dinners, dates. They all began to blend together in a dull foggy memory of boredom.

Then there was one, and he had loved him so dearly, but it didn’t work out. A lad he met at an adult store, a place he’d simply gone out of curiosity. One thing quickly led to others; The two had tried things that he couldn’t have dreamed up. He’d placed his life in that man's hands more times than necessary, trusted him with every ounce of his being. But then there were one, two, _three_ occasions he’d been caught with another. That wound was still fresh, years later. Each time it was always the same.

_“I love you! Only you!”_

_“It will never happen again!”_

_“A mistake, that’s all this was!”_

When those photos had been given to Charles, he felt so afraid. Because he knew that feeling, that ultimate betrayal of trust. It hurt him deep in his core to think he could inflict such pain on another, _especially_ Charles. Despite the idea that half of Charlie’s heart belonged to another woman, he knew that the other half sincerely belonged to him. Charles was honest to a fault, and unlike Quebec, he felt his trust had not been misplaced.

No, Charlie Kelly was fate apologizing. A peace offering to say they’d been wrong before, but this stranger is loyal to the point of insanity. Perhaps Doc should have been leary, dipped his toe into the water before diving in. But he was tired of waiting for Mr. Perfect. Charlie Kelly was the epitome of Mr. Imperfect, and he couldn’t ask for a more exciting, outrageous man.

Like a strike of lightning on a sunny day, his peaceful afternoon was cut short. The door to the apartment slammed open so violently, Doc jumped from his skin. He was clutching his chest and his head, unsure which hurt worse from the excitement.

“Doc!” Charlie slammed the door shut for good measure, pointing to him on the couch with a look of rage he’d never seen before. “I’m gonna kill him! Ok? He’s dead. And then we’re leaving Philly!”

Unsure what he was on about, Doc could only squint at Charlie. “Dear God Charles, you’re bleeding!”

Swiping a hand across his cheek, Charlie looked shocked to find blood come away on his fingers. “God dammit!”

Like a nightmare, Charlie was gone, the sound of water running from the bathroom. Doc chased after him, finding him dabbing a towel cautiously against his cheek. The look of rage had quelled, but his body trembled from some unknown heat.

“Charles, what happened?”

His breath was shaky as Doc guided him back into the bedroom, forcing him to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ll be back” he assured, running a delicate hand through Charlie’s unkempt hair.

When he returned, anti-bacterial soaked cotton ball in hand, Charlie had regained some level of composure, looking down to the bloodied towel. In his crumpled suit, he looked like the lone mourner at a funeral.

Hand gently cradling his chin, Doc brought those green eyes to meet his. The cuts looked bad, though not very deep. Four, maybe five scratches across his cheek.

“What on earth-“ he patted the cotton against Charlie’s cheek, eliciting a hiss.

“Shh,” he insisted, swiping at the cuts quickly to wipe away the drying blood and ensure it fizzed before stopping. “It may not scar,” he tried to reassure. Though, despite Charlie’s nickname, he hardly considered himself a medical professional.

But Charlie was trembling beneath his finger tips, trying to look away. “Doc, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

Charlie was trying desperately to hold back, but his eyes were already betraying him. Shaken, he pulled away from Doc’s gentle touch to cover his face.

“I swear I didn’t know, I never would have done it!” He was sobbing, fists balled so tightly over his eyes Doc couldn’t pull them away with all his force.

He always did struggle with outward emotions. To him, for so many years, hurt and pain was something to keep concealed. Private. But Charlie wasn’t like that. This was the second time Charlie had simply broken into tears inexplicably in his apartment. It was still a shock, witnessing a grown man clutching himself like a helpless child, upset with what the world had so coldly delivered.

Unsure what to do, Doc sat beside him, hand rubbing his back as his mother used to do when he was a child. Charlie cried and trembled until he had wept all that his body could handle. Even still he sobbed, dry heaves leading to hiccups (which Doc felt terrible about finding cute). Then, as he gained back some dignity, explained his outburst behind his covered features.

“Last night,” he took a shaky breathe to prepare. “I knew something was off, but I didn’t- I should have stopped you.”

Doc opened his mouth to speak, but Charlie’s hand raised to stop him. “Dennis gave you guys ecstasy. That’s why you were so sick this morning, why the Waitress was willing to sleep with me.”

The last words fell apart, Charlie curling back into himself in shame. “You guys were drugged! That’s- that’s-“

“Fucked up,” A feeling of sickness rested in Doc’s gut, understanding the gravity of the situation. “Charles, please just breathe, alright?”

“I should have stopped us!” Charlie insisted. “I knew something felt weird! You both probably hate me.”

“Charles,” Doc pulled him over, resting him against his chest. “I don’t hate you. It was a mistake.”

More sobs, Charlie clutching at the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to keep him there. Afraid at any moment he may leave. “She’ll hate me, even more than before. I never touched her when I was just stalking, I've never done anything to hurt her! But _this?! Oh my God! I’m a fucking rapist!”_

Fear struck Doc’s core, sinking like a weight. This was all a misunderstanding. Charlie, despite his flaws, would never do this willingly. This had been out of his control, a sick side effect of some sort of prank or _whatever_ that bastard had been trying to do. It was over now, nothing could be done.

Running a hand through Charlie’s hair, he held him tight. “She doesn’t have to know,”

Charlie pulled away, looking to Doc in horror. His face was red and puffy from the tears. He searched Doc’s face, looking lost. “What?”

Doc remained stoic, piercing a hole through Charlie. He set his features firmly as he repeated: “She doesn’t have to know.”

The gears in Charlie’s head began to turn, looking to the wall in shock. “I can’t, I can’t _lie_ to her.”

“You don’t need to,” Doc gripped Charlie’s hands, drawing his focus back to him. “We just don’t say anything about last night. She’ll chalk it up to an mistake, and we will _keep our mouths shut.”_

“I can’t just ignore this! You guys were high as shit, I took advantage! I-“

“Wasn’t the one who did it,” Doc said darkly.

Charlie thought for a long while, studying Doc. “We get Dennis back,” he stated firmly

Doc nodded in agreement, a few cruel ideas already coming to mind, but no doubt Charlie had more.

 

* * *

 

Dennis watched the footage over and over again, studying every detail. Charlie and Science Bitch were plotting against him. But he had the upper hand.

Didn’t anyone tell them God’s were all seeing? These two morons had no hope of beating him at his own game. No, anyone stupid enough to date Charlie certainly wasn’t smart enough to keep up with Dennis Reynolds. A college degree didn’t prepare you for sweet revenge, life with The Gang did.

And he would make sure Science Bitch got his fair share. Putting thoughts in Charlie’s head about missing days at work, but then having him attack Dennis? Even if he hadn’t ordered Charlie’s hand, the fact Charlie would _dare_ meant this bastard had to go far, far away from Philly. Six feet under would be better, but Dennis couldn’t bring himself to orchestrate that, _yet._

_Then there was Mac._

Poor idiotic Mac who seemed to be losing his mind. He was sitting on the couch across from him, just watching as Dennis replayed the scene for hours. Hoping for some sort of hint of what they were planning.

 _Patience,_ he reminded himself. Though he couldn’t bear to listen. He needed to know. The minute they spoke out loud, he’d have them.

Mac looked worried, though Dennis couldn’t figure out _why_. He’d come out over Charlie, he always did. This was just a set back.

“Dennis.”

“What?” He said, not looking away from his screen. He could feel Mac’s eyes on him, judging every fiber of his being. Particularly the ring around his neck.

Charlie did a number on him. The bruising around his throat had turned every color of the rainbow the last few days. First red and swollen, then a deep purple, and now it was somewhere between Paddy’s green and piss yellow. And it left Mac constantly trying to mother him.

For three days, all he heard was:

_“Are you okay?”_

_“How’s it feeling?”_

_“Do you want something hot for your throat?”_

If it had been any other time Dennis would have loved it. Accepting all the coddling Mac could give because, really, Mac took care of them better than their own mothers ever did. Dennis loved to be the center of attention and if this wasn’t war, would be milking these bruises for all they were worth.

But right now, Mac was a distraction.

“I think you need to take a break.”

Dennis frowned at the screen, determined not to snap. No, no. He needed Mac to leave him alone, but still wanted him in on this. They were too deep now.

“I’m fine.”

Mac sighed, looking away and playing with his nail beds as he spoke. “I just, think maybe everyone’s gone too far with this. I say we call a truce and-“

“No!” Dennis screeched. “I am not giving in to _Charlie_ of all people! That Science Bitch needs to go, _so help me God!”_

“How exactly are you gonna do that?”

Dennis scowled, looking to Mac slowly with rage behind his tired eyes. “I don’t know. But I will know, once I figure out their plan.”

 

* * *

 

“What on earth are you wearing?!” Doc looked to Charlie as if he had never before seen him, though the outfit in question was far better than his earlier options.

Sitting across from Doc, he skunk down into his chair and lowered his hat, hiding his eyes. His fake mustache struggling to stay on above his own beard. “We’re meeting with a rat, I don’t want Dennis to recognize us.”

Doc leaned forward, snickering at the obscurity of it all. “Charles, Dennis isn’t here.”

Unconvinced, Charlie drew his trench coat collar over his mouth as he whispered to Doc: “Don't underestimate the bastard.”

Charlie had called Doc up before his lunch break, told him to choose a place. So, he picked a bistro walking distance from campus he’d always wanted to try. Now though, with Charlie dressed as a 1940s detective sticking out like a sore thumb, he felt it would likely be their first and last visit. Perhaps if they didn’t embarrass themselves too badly-

“Oh, good Lord.” Doc was looking behind Charlie, rolling his eyes as another man dressed equally as ridiculous, this time in a leather trench and oversized sunglasses, took a seat in the booth behind them.

“Charlie?” He whispered, though it was loud enough he may as well be speaking.

“Charlie?” He repeated.

“For God’s sake,” Doc reached over and pulled the mustache from Charlie’s lip. “Mac, is it? Just sit with us.”

Mac glanced over the side of the booth at Charlie, who frowned but waved him over. Jumping the back of the booths, needlessly and gracelessly, Mac settled in beside Charles. He looked around the room at the other patrons staring, but seemed assured Dennis was not one of them.

“What you got?” Charlie asked.

“Okay, I’m not helping you two because I like this whole-“ he pointed between the two of them. “You’re both going to Hell.”

Doc pursed his lips but Charlie held up a hand to stop him from turning Mac away. “Then what?”

“Dennis is going crazy!” Mac took his sunglasses off, revealing frantic eyes. He leaned in towards the table, whispering quietly. “He’s filming you!”

Charlie scoffed, though Doc looked ill. “Filming us? What the hell does that mean?”

Mac looked around the restaurant once more, then turned back to Charlie. “He’s got a camera in Science Bitch’s room. Like his sex tapes? But for you two!”

_“What?!”_

_“Shh!”_ The other two hissed.

Doc hadn’t meant to yell, but the shock had sent his blood boiling and he could hardly believe in the insanity of it all. He leaned in too, whispering frantically at Mac. “Where the hell is it?!”

Mac shrugged. “Somewhere up high, you can see the whole room. But that’s not it, he can hear everything you two say in the apartment. He knows you’re planning something.”

Charlie scrunched his face in thought, eyeing Doc who had gone red. “Alright. Thanks Mac.”

He didn’t leave. “What are you planning?”

Charlie gave him a strange look, “I’m not telling you! You’ll rat us out!”

His mouth dropped open in hurt. “I would not!”

“Yes you would,” Charlie insisted,  pushing him from the booth. “Thanks Mac, you can go.”

A brief scuffle, until Mac relented and allowed Charlie to shove him out. They watched with the other patrons as Mac stormed out, leather trench swishing uncomfortably loud as he walked, taking all eyes with him for all the wrong reasons.

“That Dennis is a sick bastard!”

Charlie smiled, damn near proud. “Yeah, that’s Dennis.”

Doc frowned, fearing Charlie didn’t quite grasp what had been revealed. “Charles! What he’s doing is illegal, we should turn him into the police and-“

“What can I get for ya’ today?”

A waiter looked between the two entirely too cheery for Docs taste. Charlie however ran a hand over his beard, looking at the menu unsure. _How could he eat after hearing all this?_

“Chicken sandwich, beak on the side.”

The waiter tilted his head, looking to Charlie in confused bewilderment. “We don’t serve…”

Doc waved him off, “He’s joking, of course. I’ll have the BLT please.”

Charlie frowned and opened his mouth to argue, but the waiter was gone, Doc jumping back in to the topic at hand. “We should press criminal charges, for everything he’s done.”

Charlie only scoffed, picking at the menus edge. “Nah, man. We’re gonna get him back better than that.”

Unable to understand Charlie’s laissez-faire attitude to all this, Doc was forced to yank the menu away from Charlie’s hands to return his attention. “You better have a good plan, or else I’m going to the police myself!”

“Listen Doc,” Charlie’s voice was pitchy, hands raised in defense like he often got when frustrated, “You go to the cops and what are they gonna do? We can’t prove anything, except _maybe_ the filming. If we’re lucky!”

Seeing Doc’s lips purse he went on, voice becoming dramatic: “We will get our revenge, oh mark my words!”

Others in the restaurant were staring, forcing Doc to sink lower in their booth and gesturing for Charlie to keep his voice down. But it was too late, Charlie had gotten worked up.

“Dennis will _wish_ we had gone to the cops! Don’t worry Doc, that bastard will suffer!”

“Charles!” He hissed.

Looking surprised by his own outburst Charlie ran his hands over his face. He chewed his cheek as he looked everywhere but to Doc and the other watching eyes. To be honest, he looked insane. As if at any moment he may split in two.

“BLT,” The waiter’s jolly voice brought them both tumbling back to earth as he set their plates down. “And chicken sandwich, beak on the side.”

He gave a wink to Charlie, leaving Doc baffled as to how this man had missed Charlie’s ridiculous outburst that had left the whole place deathly quiet. Yet, the waiter sauntered off with an all to friendly smile, and Doc could only follow with a frown.

“That’s it!”

Glancing to Charles, Doc was caught off gaurde by the wild grin.

“What’s it?”

Charlie tore a bite from his sandwich, speaking around it with a flourishing wave. “Dennis’s downfall will be slow and agonizing,”

Doc handed a napkin over, but Charlie had already wiped his mouth onto his sleeve. He swallowed, struggling to maintain a look of villainy with the mouthful.

“And what exactly is your plan?”

Charlie only smirked, head tilted in a way Doc couldn’t entirely trust, but felt compelled to adore.

 

* * *

 

_“Charles, not tonight.”_

The footage was shocking, to say the least.

_“Doc, c’mon! You’re not still mad at me, are you?”_

_“Yes! Charles! I am mad!”_

Dennis watched with bated breath, eyes glued to the latest drama to unfold with Charlie and Science Bitch. All their talk of revenge, plotting to destroy Dennis in hushed voices, had been placed on the sidelines for their latest lovers quarrel.

_“Can’t we just move past this? So the waiter at the restaurant thought I was hot! Like, why’s that so wrong?”_

_“Because Charles!”_ Doc was in the bedroom now, trying to get away from Charlie. _“If it was just him it would be one thing, but I saw the way you looked at him!”_

_“Oh my God! Doc, man, can we just finish our plan?”_

In frustration, Doc turned, Charlie unseen by the camera but clearly in the doorway from where Science Bitch was looking. _“I’m don’t care, Charles! This is real life! Scheming and plotting revenge? Really? Grow up!”_

 _“Grow up?!”_ Charlie screeched. _“You want me to grow up? Fine! Screw you!”_

 _“Where do you think you’re going?”_ Dennis watched as Doc stormed out of the room.

 _“Away!”_ Was all Charlie said, and the front door slammed. Doc returned to the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed for awhile, face covered by his hands.

This was a development Dennis had not seen coming in a million years. His obsession, hours wasted in preparing for a counter attack, seemed to have been a waste. It was tragic, really.

But, when one door closes, another opens. Charlie and Science Bitch were on cliffs edge, all it would take is a little push to tear them apart.

When Science Bitch finally stood, Dennis could hear the clicking of the door. Was he chasing after Charlie? It would be too late by now. He had to know that.

Closing the footage, Dennis settled into his couch imagining all the possibilities of the destruction to follow. Charlie, single, malleable. The little outburst around the ecstasy incident could be turned into a positive. Earn Charlie’s forgiveness, offer him some support for the whole break up thing, then, like the clever bastard he is, Dennis would take advantage when the moment was ripe.

Yes, Charlie would be alone. Desperate. Science Bitch and the Waitress _both_ out of the way and no one to turn to but Paddy’s, specifically Dennis.

It was a shame. Science Bitch with all his kinky secrets and ingenious brain lacked the creativity to conspire with Charlie. To see the greater good in seeking revenge. It was a disappointment to say the least. Dennis would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious to see what the two brains would come up with. But, Doc being a reasonable gentleman, seemed to be above the pettiness of Charlie. Dennis couldn’t help in feeling a little above it all himself, though it would have been fun to see play out. This was just _too_ easy in a way.

“Dennis?” Mac yelled from his room, interrupting Dennis’s trail of thoughts. “Are you gonna get that?”

_Get what?_

A knock pounded on the door, Dennis realizing he had been spacing out, unaware of the persistent tapping until it had stopped. He stood and sighed, frustrated in being pulled from his marvelous thoughts about just what he could get Charlie to do, and threw the door open eager to turn whoever it was away. But his voice caught in his throat as he looked down to the shorter man, lips already pursed in annoyance.

“Science Bi- Uh, Doc.” He hadn’t meant to sound like he’d just been caught, voice cracking as he struggle to speak, but the narrowed dark eyes were off putting. As if he sensed all that Dennis had been pondering.

“I was wondering if I may talk with you.”

Collecting himself, Dennis straightened and smiled charmingly, maintaining a sense of dignity in this surprise. “Of course! Come in!”

Science Bitch remained silent as he followed Dennis into the apartment, scrutinizing every fine detail. It felt more like an inspection, and Dennis wished he could tell the bitch to mind his own business. _Be nice. This? This is a rare opportunity to be seized._

“I came to apologize.” Upon the look of uncertainty in Dennis’s features he continued: “For Charles’s outburst. Him attacking you in that manor,”

Dennis could feel those eyes landing on the bruising around his throat, searing it.

“It was uncalled for, and an inappropriate reaction.”

Dennis nodded and ran a hand over his neck, hissing in hopes of eliciting even more sympathy. “Oh, well. Charlie’s always had anger issues. Did, uh, he tell you about why he snapped?”

This was the test. Seeing Science Bitch squirm under his own gaze was a welcome shift in power. Dennis already knew the answer, and if this truly was a white flag, he had no reason to lie.

“Yes,” Doc caughed. “I must admit I was shocked at first. I’ve never been under _influences_ quite like that before.”

_Ahh, so that white flag still waved. This was a true peace offering._

“I’m sorry, about that.” Dennis was actually sorry, but not for drugging Science Bitch and Waitress, but for being stupid enough to tell Mac and Charlie.

A reluctant nod, Dennis caught the faintest glimmer of a smirk. _The fucking sick bastard was into it, wasn’t he._

“You want a beer?” Dennis offered, pulling his collar just enough to show off those awful bruises. Under Doc’s thick scarf Dennis knew a brother lingered. Another, more pleasant gift, left by Charlie.

“I should be, uh-“

“Oh,” Dennis tried to look a little sad. Stuffing his hands in his pocket and giving a weak smile. “Yeah, yeah of course. Charlie will probably be wondering where you are.”

Those thin elegant lips pursed again and Doc looked indignant. “Perhaps one beer wouldn’t hurt.”

Dennis turned for the kitchen, leaving Science Bitch alone for all of two seconds, when he could hear his opportunity begin to crumble.

“Oh, hello. Mac, isn’t it?”

When he came back out Mac looked horrified at the man standing in their living room, as if he were to suddenly lunge. He didn’t look away when Dennis handed him his beer, or when those dark eyes found a place to rest on Mac.

Unlike Mac, however, Science Bitch wasn’t gawking wide eyed and struck dumb. Instead his eyes seemed to take the entirety of Mac in, lingering on his arms and chest far longer than Dennis felt comfortable with.

Mac, unaware as always, didn’t seem to notice.

“Dennis, what the hell?”

“I came to apologize, and to call for a truce.” He smiled to Mac, who being Mac, instinctively smiled back.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes,” Dennis intersected, staring daggers into Mac and trying to signal to _Go. Away._ “We were just discussing it when-“

“Do you go to the gym?”

It was an odd question, one that caught Dennis off guard, especially since Science Bitch was looking away from Dennis. Still at Mac.

“Yeah,” Mac quickly threw up his arms, flexing to show off. “Everyday man!”

“Wow.” Without invitation, Science Bitch stretched out his hand and ran thin elegant fingers across the tanned muscles. “I must say it’s quite impressive. What sort of workouts do you do?”

“Oh well,” Mac was blushing now. Those downturned eyes looking momentarily to the floor as he wrapped his arms around his chest, bashful smile creeping across his features. “All sorts. You gotta have a good mix. Weights, wrestling, MMA.”

Dennis couldn’t believe his eyes or ears. It was as if he was invisible. _First Charlie and now Mac?! What the actual fuck was wrong with this prick?!_ Of all the people Science Bitch should be selecting as a rebound, Dennis should be first choice! He’s the one who Charlie attacked! He’s the one he came to see!

But they just kept on talking, ignorant to the reddening of Dennis’s face as his blood began to boil.

“I’ve been meaning to get back into a workout routine, but it’s been difficult with Charles. He’s not much of a sports person.”

“You play sports?”

“Oh yes, in London I played rugby and football. When I was younger I spent most of my free tim playing, though I was admittedly not very good.”

“I, uh, I don’t know what rugby is.”

“Oh! Well in America you lads call football soccer, and rugby is very similar to what you call football.”

Dennis could tell Mac still didn’t understand, and in his space trying to piece together Dennis took the opportunity to return to the room. “I played soccer too for years. Best one on my team.”

Science Bitch gave him a strange look, as if he were suddenly surprised to see Dennis still standing there, then turned back to Mac. “Are you free tonight Mac?”

Mac’s eyes went wide as he looked to Dennis, seeming like a child asking for permission. But Science Bitch wouldn’t drop it.

“There’s a club I know, a few other chaps from the UK meet up there. They may be able to explain the sport better than I can. Who knows, maybe we could get a team going,” he chuckled, and Dennis knew something was off. Science Bitch fawning over Mac? Inviting him out to places? It was pretty obvious to almost everyone Mac was gay, but he was also annoying as shit, so _why?_

Dennis didn’t stop it quick enough. Mac was nodding and shrugging on his jacket before he could register what was happening.

“Thank you for the beer, Dennis.” Science Bitch was holding it back out to him, untouched.

“Well, maybe I can go with you?” He suggested, wincing at how desperate it sounded.

“Oh, sure. If you like.” He wouldn’t even look at him, those stupid beady eyes focused entirely on Mac. “Though I must admit, it may not be your scene.”

“My- _my scene?”_ Dennis laughed, entirely too forcefully and eliciting another strange stare from Science Bitch. “No offense, but I think you’ve misjudged me, Doc.”

 

* * *

 

Clubs, bars, pubs. Whatever you wanted to call it. These places were not his typical choices for socializing. For one, he liked to _hear_ what others were saying. Not the constant pounding of bass and the overly synthetic voice of a pop star he’d never heard of. Two, Charles wasn’t here, and Dennis had yet to let him breathe a moment alone.

Mac, well Mac certainly seemed to be enjoying himself. Since they'd arrived and Doc had made the barest of introductions to the only person he _actually_ knew here, Mac had been on the dance floor. It was certainly easy for him to attract a crowd. Vivacious energy, good looks, a strong build, and obviously a bit shy. The entire place seemed to want to buy him a drink and swallow him up (in more ways than one).

Dennis, this pale tall bastard who was following him around like his own shadow, was also turning a few heads. He noticed them too, which was all the more annoying. It would be different if he would leave Doc alone, go and flirt with all the longing eyes, but he lingered. Following Doc into a booth far enough from the speakers he was able to think.

“This place is great!” Dennis said through a forced smile, eyes wildly taking in all the delights.

Doc could only pull his lips back in an attempt to create some formed mimic of enjoyment. “Yes, I suppose. Mac seems to be enjoying himself.”

Dennis looked pointedly to the dance floor, the group surrounding Mac and happily joining in with whatever dance he thought he was doing. It was surreal, seeing others fondly coddling Mac with his baby steps. It made Dennis grind his teeth, though he wasn’t sure why.

He should be happy. Mac was out of his hair and seemingly finding himself amongst people who liked him (for now). But, seeing him shirtless, jumping up and down, and ogling the group that had formed around him, was bizarrely head spinning.

But, that left Doc with Dennis. Alone in the back corners of a seedy gay club. Fate was finally delivering what it owed him.

 _My scene,_ Dennis repeated bitterly. This place was the culmination of Dennis Reynolds, even if there were fewer women than he typically liked to see.

Upon their entrance he was greeted with the sweet smell of bodies, all filling the crowded space with their lack of boundaries. As they had followed Doc further into the belly of the beast, Mac had clung tightly to Dennis’s sleeve out of instinct and fear of losing him in the crowd. Mac was terrified, recognizing that this was not what either of them had been expecting, and it’s what he’d secretly been curious about for years.

_“Hey!”_

Mac caught of guard gripped tighter to Dennis’s arm, pinching the skin. The towering figure above him smiling sweetly down to Mac’s frightened rigid demeanor.

 _“First time, huh honey?”_ The woman, taller than even Dennis in her massive platforms, reached over and patted Mac’s shoulder. Keeping him locked in place. _“Whose you’re friends?”_

She was talking to Doc, smiling up at her in relief. _“This is Mac and Dennis. Boys, this is Cherry.”_

She smiled sweetly, leaning in with her red lipstick towards Mac, who smiled back doe eyed. _“You’re so cute I could eat you up! Ya’ dance Mac?”_

Mac nodded lamely and Dennis felt the release of his arm as he was pulled into the crowd, Cherry’s platinum wig above the sea of heads the only indication of where he was being taken.

He was lucky he looked back to Doc to say a snide remark, as the bitch was making a beeline for the far corner. Dennis followed, pushing his way through the ever pulling wave of men, catching up with his long legs faster than Doc could run with his short ones. Along his way, he couldn’t help but take in the _undertones_ this place had to offer.

Dennis had been to gay bars, and while this fit the typical requirements (one, it was a bar, and two, it was filled largely with gay men) it had a few extra quirks.

To begin with, it was hard _not_ to notice all the men eyeing Dennis hungerly from every corner of the room. The bar, dimly lit and booming with the constant pounding of music with no source, was filled with men of every _scene_ Dennis could imagine. Twinks in nothing but their underwear, running bare foot like toddlers barley old enough to drink, Bears in leather talking loudly at the bar as they stuck to themselves, Queens towering above all in their eight inch platforms and two foot wigs. Then there was Doc, who stuck out of the crowd in his winter coat and too many layers. Slouched pitifully in a corner as he watched Mac, who’d managed to loose his shirt, dance freely with Cherry and her friends.

“You want a drink Doc?” Dennis asked, eager to take a stroll around the place. Just to feel those eyes follow him. Maybe give Doc a taste of just how much he could be missed.

“Sure, why not. Vodka tonic.” He was shouting above the music at Dennis who already had his back to him, fading into the bacchanalian crowd.

“Doc!”

The shock of a body sliding forcefully into his side made him jump, hands instinctively shoving back at the invading stranger.

“Doc! Holy shit it’s me!”

In the darkness of the club, Charles was barely recognizable in his ‘disguise’. It was more the lighting than anything else, but the outfit Charles sported was unlike anything else he usually wore. Though, it wasn’t the same one Doc had leant him hours ago.

“Charles where is my shirt? Where did you get this one?”

That dopey grin Doc recognized all to well spread effortlessly across his red cheeks. His eyes glossy as he leaned in to press a scratchy kiss to his jaw. “Traded it, I’m not a leather kind of guy.”

Doc couldn’t help but purse his lips, Charlie noticing and pulling back. “No! Oh no, Doc I’m sorry! I just-“

He pulled on the front of his new shirt, a leopard print monstrosity that was too large, leaving him looking like an even drunker fool than he really was. “I swears- I wasn’t- I just thought this looked so much cooler.”

“It’s fine Charles,” Doc assured. That shirt had been expensive, but, he hadn’t worn it in years. It was likely long gone and with someone who wouldn’t mind the swampy sweat it trapped all too easily. “Dennis and Mac are here, I’ve done-“

“I know!” Charles hands reaching forward, cupping Doc’s face and pulling him into another sloppy kiss. “You’re, you’re so _amazing_ . I fucking _love you!”_

“Charles, how much have you had to drink?”

Charlie shrugged, eyes glimmering in the low purple lights, toothy grin all for Doc. “Jus’ a few.”

“Charles-“

“But Mac! O _h my god,_ he's so happy! I saw him dancing with Cherry! Have you met Cherry?”

“Yes Charles, I’m the one who introduced you to her, remember?”

“Oh yeah?” Charlie wasn’t listening, tongue finding solace against Doc’s jaw, tracing down the fine taunt skin at the base of his scarf. His hand slid over his thigh, rubbing circles with his palm.

The heat in Doc’s face grew, forced to push Charles away. “Dennis will be back any second, you can’t be here!”

Charlie shook his head. “The plan is he just can’t see me!”

“Yes, Charles, that’s why I think it’s best if you go home, _to your place, remember?_ And get some sleep. Could you do that? For me?”

Charlie was still smiling dopely, but nodded in agreement. “Anything Doc, I love you.”

Unwilling to deny him one final kiss, Doc obliged, feeling Charlie press into him, lost once again in the touch. His eyes slipped shut for half a second, tasting the leftover beer on Charlie’s tongue. Then, without any force of Doc’s own, pulled away with an _“Oh shit!”_

When he’d opened his eyes Charlie was gone beside him, but the feeling of hands across his calves instinctively made him kick. “Ouch!” came a hiss from beneath the table, and Doc was only able to steal a glance at Charlie’s folded figure at his feet before a drink was set before him.

“So, Doc,” Dennis slid into the seat across and Doc feared he may kick Charlie. But, he looked on with sunken eyes and an all to pleased grin, unaware Charlie was pressing his entire body between Doc’s calves, inches away from Dennis’s feet. “Where is Charlie tonight?”

His voice was stuck in his throat, barely able to choke out a “Oh, you know Charles. He’s usually not far.”

Dennis scoffed, taking a sip of his drink. He looked entirely too comfortable, it was making Doc feel even more uneasy. To quell the nerves rapidly boiling in his chest, he reached out to his own. It wasn’t what he asked for, not even close.

“I said I wanted a vodka tonic.”

Dennis looked taken aback by the critic. “Vodka tonics are disgusting, this actually has some flavor.”

Doc pursed his lips and looked on to the fruity nightmare before him. The vain selfish asshole could have at least _tried_ to be nice and charming. Then maybe Doc would have felt a little more sympathy.

Begrudgingly he took a sip, only to satisfy Dennis and get this night over with. Yet, Dennis looked on, almost searching for approval. Something Doc was damn sure he wasn’t going to give.

“You know Doc,” Dennis was leaning across the table to speak at a volume that wasn’t yelling over the music, though still took effort to be heard. “I’m kinda shocked a guy like you went for a guy like Charlie.”

Doc only frowned, feeling fingers grip tightly to his pant legs, the weight of Charles on his foot, and the pin pricks across his skin.

“You can be honest with me, after all I consider us friends.” Dennis’s white teeth reflected the low glow of the room, shining a pale purple grin at Doc. Like the Cheshire Cat to Alice from his perch in the dark trees. “What is it about him? Is it cause he’s gross and you’ve got some sort of kink for sewer rats?”

Doc swallowed hard, forcing the spit of sticky disgusting fruit cocktail down before he was seriously tempted to aim it at Dennis’s angular cheeks. Gathering his dignity he smiled and gave a soft chuckle. “Oh sure. Something like that.”

But beneath the table he found solace in Charlie’s hair, and prayed he understood he was just playing along with Dennis’s stupid game. That he didn’t mean any of it. Though, Charles didn’t seem to be paying much attention. Hand exploring higher than Doc felt was strictly necessary in this situation.

“That’s not your only type is it?” Dennis teased, fingers stretching across the table and brushing gently across Doc’s.

That was a good enough reason as any to slide his hand away, pulling them out of reach beneath the table and to push Charlie’s pawing one’s away. Yet, they returned instantly, this time joined by Charlie’s mouth on the inside of his thigh, pressing gentle open kisses across the fabric.

“I don’t have a type,” Doc states firmly, hands returning to their proper place beside his drink.

“Everyone has a type!” Dennis insisted, smiling as though Doc were transparent. “Though, I have to admit, I’m not one to stick to conventions.”

Doc could only nod, feeling Charles’s fingers find their way to his zipper. He scooted to the edge of the seat, trying to hide Charlie from any prying eyes who may glance into the booth. It gave Dennis the impression he was gaining favor, clueless to the reality of _why_ Doc’s body was leaning forward.

“I consider myself straight, but I’m certainly open to _any_ possibilities. Should they present themselves.” Dennis was eyeing him like a prize, studying every aspect of his features. Waiting for any sign. Doc was struggling not to give him the satisfaction, but was forced to bite the inside of his cheek as Charlie peeled away fabric, finding Doc in the dark and running a loose hand over him.

The selfish bastard smirked, thinking he was eliciting the reaction by words alone. “What are you into Doc?”

It took him minutes to register the words, absorbed in the hot embrace of Charlie’s mouth taking him in sloppily. Charles had yet to- this was his first _try_ and _fuck it was good,_ but in the same way a quick jerk off as a teen was. It felt sinful, dirty, and Charlie was so graceless in his skill with no direction.

When he was able to pull a voice from his chest, he could only shrug and say simply, “Depends. A bit of,” a repressed hiss as Charlie’s teeth dragged a little too sharply, “of everything.”

“Guys!”

A blessing, a stroke of luck. It gave Doc an opportunity to angle his legs apart, giving Charles more room to press deeper.

Shirtles and beaming, Mac stood at the end of their booth with Cherry and two other ladies surrounding him. Despite his gauche appearance, covered with the remnants of Cherry and the other girls red lipsticks, he was still bouncing freely to the music.

“Dennis! Dennis! This place is amazing!”

Dennis, eyes thankfully drawn away from Doc who could release a shaky breath, looked at Mac in shock. “You’re enjoying this?”

Mac nodded eagerly, wrapping his arm around Cherry’s waist and pounding his fist to the beat in triumph. “Yeah, Dude! The chicks here are awesome!”

Dennis looked pointedly to Cherry and the others. She winked back at him, tongue pressing on the inside of her cheek. “Mac, they’re Drag Queens.”

Mac tilted his head in confusion, looking skeptically between Cherry and Dennis. “What’s that?”

“They’re guys, Mac. They dress like women!”

Pulling his arm away from Cherry, he took a step back to eye her up and down. From the top of her teased blonde wig to the points of her six inch heels. “You’re a dude?”

Unbothered, Cherry shrugged. “Thought it was pretty obvious. I’m not that fishy.”

Mac frowned, weighing his options. “Are you like a tranny or something?”

The corners of her mouth turned down as she spoke. “No, I’m just a guy in a dress.” As if to emphasize her point, she lowered the neck of her glittery number to reveal smooth flat skin and the silicone of fake breasts.

Unable to comprehend, Mac looked to the other women surrounding him. “You’re all dudes?”

They all nodded.

“Oh honey,” Cherry said resting a hand on Mac’s cheek. “You’re so sweet it hurts!”

Cherry looked pointedly to Doc, who was barely able to meet her eyes unashamed as Charlie’s mouth slid lazily up and down his dick, unknown to the others. “You didn’t tell me he was this deep in the closet!”

Doc could only manage a meager shrug, fearful if he tried to speak all would be revealed. Mac however frowned, still studying Cherry’s makeup caked face and smooth legs. “So you’re a man? Like full on?”

“Yes, sweetie!” She repeated, and Mac only looked more confused.

“I don’t believe you. You don’t even have a bulge!”

The other girls giggled, a dark hair one drawing herself across Mac’s shoulder. Despite her feminine looks, her voice came out much deeper than anyone had expected. “We can show you how that’s done,”

Obviously tired of the charade, Dennis yanked Mac away by his arm and handed him a wad of cash. “Go home Mac. Pray, do whatever you want to forget this. I’m staying here with Doc.”

Shoving the cash back Mac pulled away with a grin. “I’m not leaving.”

“You’re not?” Dennis looked bewildered.

“Nah,” Mac slung his arm back around Cherry’s waist, “I’m cool with it. Let’s go dance girls!”

The other Queens cheered, forming a line behind Mac as he held tight to Cherry’s waist, leading off a conga line to shitty club music. If Doc had been able to form a coherent sentence, he would have pointed out how absolutely dumb struck Dennis looked. His mouth hung open as he watched the parade of wigs and heels disappear back into the crowd, caught between misery and confusion.

But, Doc could barely even focus on keeping his voice in as he felt himself sinking into Charlie’s warm throat. He clenched his teeth and held tight to the table, grateful Dennis was too self absorbed to see the torment etched into his features.

“I can’t believe it,” Dennis leaned back into the booth, Doc praying he couldn’t see beneath it. “Mac, Mac’s gay.”

Doc forced himself to speak, though it sounded physically wrecked. “I thought, ah- I thought you knew?”

Dennis looked through him, unable to see beyond this new revelation. “I mean I did, we all did. But shit, does this mean he’s like _out?”_

Thankfully, it seemed Dennis didn’t care what of if Doc had anything to say. Sliding his hand beneath the table he pulled Charlie closer by matted hair, forcing him further down until he felt his nose press against his flush skin. Charlie’s fingers dug into his thighs and he released, feeling Charlie’s throat close around him. He didn’t dare go further, but _fuck,_ if only they could be left alone.

The thought of Mac enjoying his time with another man (Queen or not), made Dennis’s skin crawl. He should be alleviated. Mac was out of his hair, and out to the world! That meant Dennis could focus his efforts on Charlie and Science Bitch. That Dennis didn’t need to worry about Mac’s insecurities. That Mac finally found someone, who for even a short while, would keep him away from Dennis. And that’s what made his skin crawl.

“No, no.” Dennis insisted, leaning across the table to eye Science Bitch with a look of disgust. “Mac and Charlie? Fuck those guys. I don’t need them!”

Doc wasn’t listening, distracted by Charlie’s hands crawling up his shirt and the soundless hum against his cock that made him sit straight up. Whatever this bastard was saying, he could only nod along. Who gave a shit about what the fucking words were when all he could feel was Charlie’s slick mouth and never ending teasing.

“If anything those two idiots need me! I’m fucking God to them!”

Doc bit into his lip, holding back a moan as Charlie ran his tongue down his length, then wrapped his lips around the head one last time. A nagging fear told him as he hit the edge, he couldn’t let Charlie pull away. Leaving the bar with cum stains on his pants would be horrifying, especially if this bony bastard across from him spotted it. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of questioning any of this.

“You and I, we’re better than them! I say you and I get our revenge,”

Lacing his fingers in Charlie’s hair, he held him there. Charlie’s nails dug in again, but this time Doc refused to relent. Thankfully, despite the initial shock, Charlie seemed to understand the want. His mouth slid further down and Doc gasped, unable to hold back as he spilled over. The feeling of Charles’s throat accepting it, tongue flat against his cock as he swallowed it all down.

“Yeah!” Dennis agreed, mistaking the blissful sharp breathe as eagerness for whatever the fuck he was babbling on about. “You and I Doc. Tonight.”

In his decent, Doc couldn’t focus on why Dennis was looking at him like that. His body was spent, unable to even pull away as Dennis’s hand brushed against his again. Beneath, he could feel the trail of drool Charlie was leaving as he pulled away, body trembling against his from the cramped space and no doubt still hard himself.

“Dennis,” Doc said beneath heavy lashes, desperate to get rid of this ill man and see Charlie’s abused lips, “Perhaps another night.”

Dennis frowned, glaring daggers into Docs already hot skin. “Fine.”

“Could you, uh,” Doc was falling back into reality, blush creeping across his features and peaking Dennis’s curiosity. “Could you order us some shots? I could use something a bit stronger.”

A blessing, Dennis actually obliged with a greedy smile. Playing the blushing virgin while getting sucked off beneath the table was a part Doc could never have imagined, and he really should have tried out for school plays now that he realized what a hidden talent he had.

Gripping Charlie by that atrocious shirt, Doc pulled him free of his cramped imprisonment to sit beside him and be admired. Face red and lips thoroughly abused, slick spit and cum still detected in the corners of his mouth and beard. It was like staring into the embodiment of degeneracy and falling in love.

“Fuck I love you,” Doc couldn’t hold back, already feeling his dick gaining  interest all over again.

Charlie smiled proudly and leaned in, leaving salty kisses across his lips and neck. “Promise?”

Even in the darkness Doc could see the bulge in Charlie’s jeans as he moved to crawl over Doc. But he had to stop him. “You need to go. Now, before he gets back.”

A pout graced those red lips as he reluctantly pulled away, desperate to make his case heard, but Doc turned him away. “I swear, Charles, I will make this up to you tenfold. _Later._ ”

As if to emphasize his point, and be a little cruel, he shoved his palm against the rough fabric of his jeans eliciting as sharp gasp from Charlie’s desperate mouth. It took every ounce of his being not to slide his tongue, or cock, right back into that space.

“I don’t even think I can walk,” he whined, but reluctantly slid from the booth. Doc watched, empathetic to Charles’s slow waddle towards the restroom.

Hurrying, he stuffed himself back into his pants and fixed what he could, hoping the length of his coat would cover the drool stains over its fabric when they left. As long as that bastard and Mac didn’t notice, that’s all he cared about.

“Doc!” Dennis returned, setting their collection of shots before them. “To us!”

“There’s no ecstasy in this right,” Doc made it sound like a joke, and Dennis laughed. Even going so far as to reach across the table and slap him playfully. But it didn’t feel funny.

“No! No!” Dennis insisted, then plucked a shot from Doc’s side to down it. He hissed at the burn in his throat and croaked out: “See?”

Doc smirked and took one from Dennis’s row. “Touché.”

They clinked their glasses in truce, downing them together. Minds on one shared topic: the anomaly of Charlie Kelly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all my readers sticking with this story, you guys rock and I love you. Also, hope everyone enjoyed a bit of Doc centered storytelling for once.


	8. “The Plan in Action: Part 2”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie liked to consider himself a good actor. Despite Dennis, Dee, Mac, and Frank declaring themselves the smartest man in any room, Charlie liked to think he always had the upper hand for one of three reasons; One, everyone always assumed he was too dumb to follow along, thus underestimating him. Two, he always had something up his sleeves in terms of knowing what made other people tick. And three? Well three was that he was a wild card. Who needed a well thought out scheme when you had-
> 
> What was it Doc had called it? Spotintuey, spontenaty, spontaneity? Whatever.
> 
> When you could think on your feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Haven’t posted in awhile, sorry. Got sick, fell behind in school, had a life (though honestly most of my time I’m just trying to figure out where I’m going with this fic.)

 

* * *

  

_6:24 p.m. University of Pennsylvania_

It had been difficult, balancing Charles and everything that came with him against the riggers of his work. Typically, he was one of the fastest grading Professors. With no life outside of academics, and very few friends in Philly, Doc spent much of his free time reading, planning lessons, grading essays, and working with Interns. However, Charles required all of his attention it seemed  (and he eagerly returned it) and things were beginning to fall through the cracks.

At least now, with Charles and him sleeping in their own apartments to ward off Dennis, and with Spring Break days away, Doc was determined to catch up and stick to his schedule. He’d been spending extra time locked away in his office, unnerved by the idea that bastard had a damn camera up somewhere in his home, watching him. He wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing him going about his day beyond the required amount to ease suspicions.

In fact, the whole ordeal meant he could get more work done. At least, that had been the plan.

When Dennis Reynolds showed up at his office _,_ it worried him.

Blessed with the deathly silence of a college campus past four p.m., Doc had been set to finish grading the last of his students midterm reports. As he read through the papers, grading each not just for their Scientific content, but harshly for their English prowess (something, sadly, few in the Sciences ever perfected) he felt the eyes of another watching him.

Glancing up, he flinched at the sight of that bastard looming in his doorway, having been silently watching him for _God knows how long._ If Doc had been a more physically intimidating man he would have told him he didn’t have time to speak, and sent him away. But, Doc was not physically intimidating, even when he tried. Not to mention his mother had engrained manners so deeply into him that telling someone he was busy would be equivalent to ’fuck off’, even if he loathed them.

So, he took a deep breath and returned to his papers. “Dennis, how are you?”

“Good,” lingering in the door, Dennis stretched across the frame ensuring there was no escape. “Thought I’d stop by and see if you were free tonight.”

“Oh, I’m afraid I can’t.” Doc gestured to the stack of papers awaiting him, for once in his entire career _happy_ to be teaching a class of seventy freshmen, most bad at science and even worse at essays. “Midterms and such, won’t be going home for a few hours.”

Dennis’s slim eyebrows pressed together in a way suggesting he was questioning the excuse. “Why not grade at your place?”

“Ah,” Doc struggled to find a lie. The bastard no doubt knew he used to grade exclusively in the comfort of his own home with a glass of wine and the soft murmur of music to keep his company. “Charles. He likes to drop by, usually when I’m grading and I just don’t have time this week to deal with him _and_ my students.”

A sly smirk as Dennis looked entirely too comfortable in this space. “I get it. He can be pretty annoying.”

Forcing himself to smile, though in truth the only thing pulling at the corner of his lips was irritation, Doc watched as Dennis easily strolled into the office. Making himself at home he looked through books on the shelf, picked up knick knacks, and remained oblivious to Doc’s persistent scribbling. Even if he tried ignoring him, returned to his grading as though this man weren’t even here, Dennis would wait him out. He could sense that much.

“Where were you thinking?”

“Hm? Oh, I know this great spot! Doesn’t take reservations, but, we ought to head out before they’re booked for the night.” Dennis gave a charming smile, one that turned Doc’s insides for all the wrong reasons.

“Alright, let me organize these, then we can leave.”

 

* * *

 

_3:06 p.m. Paddy’s Pub_

 Charlie liked to consider himself a good actor. Despite Dennis, Dee, Mac, and Frank declaring themselves the smartest man in any room, Charlie liked to think he _always_ had the upper hand for one of three reasons; One, everyone always assumed he was too dumb to follow along, thus underestimating him. Two, he always had something up his sleeves in terms of knowing what made other people tick. And three? Well three was that he was a wild card. Who needed a well thought out scheme when you had-

_What was it Doc had called it? Spotintuey, spontenaty, spontaneity? Whatever._

When you could think on your feet.

All these assholes, especially Dennis, liked to think they were superior to Charlie and could boss him around, but in reality Charlie liked to bide his time. Wait for the opportunity to strike back. That required a few skills the others lacked, most importantly improve.

He had to be sure he and Doc seemed as though a wedge had been successful placed between them, even if it hurt Charlie to think he and Doc were spending their nights alone for a few days. At least he had Frank, for what that was worth. But poor Doc had no one else, cooped up alone in either that cluttered office or bare apartment. Even in the hours since he and Doc had snuck a brief goodbye, Charlie was left itching for another taste. And thanks to Dennis, who the fuck knew when that would be.

But, his facade was flawless. He came into work early, mopped around the bar, was less obvious in hiding the beers he snuck and the hits of paint thinner in full view of The Gang (well, just Dennis and Dee for right now). It took ‘em awhile to notice, but when they did he felt as though his performance should have been better rewarded.

“What’s your deal?” Dee snapped as Charlie shoved past her in the back room, trying to reach for spare bleach bottles on the top shelf and failing even when standing on the lower shelf. Dee, with her freakishly long arms was able to simply reach out and grasp it, nearly knocking him across the head as she brought it down. 

“Nothin’,” He muttered, snatching the bottle and returning to the bar. She’d been baited, trailing after him like a fish on a hook.

“Relationship problems?” It was clear Dee didn’t give a shit about Charlie’s actual feelings, but rather the juicy drama ready to exploit, even if just for a laugh. 

He nodded, looking as sad as he could with just how _easy_ this was. From the corner of his eye he could even see Dennis sparing glances from the far stool. Like a shark smelling blood in the water and coming to explore.

Dropping his voice to a whisper he did his best to tease just how heartbroken he could play. _Poor confused helpless Charlie._ Well, if that’s what they thought of him then that’s what they’d get. “Doc and I, we’re taking a break.”

Dee’s eyes got wide and he caught the glance she shared with Dennis, though it had been so subtle Charlie wasn’t even sure he’d seen it. “Why? I thought you were gay for Science Bitch now?”

“Yeah,” Charlie worked at his lip as he ran a wet rag over the bar, cleaning nothing in particular. “But we had a fight last night. He seems to think I’m going to sleep with other people, but I’m not a slut! No offense Dee,” 

She frowned and crossed her arms, too interested in the sweet sweet gossip spilling out to leave over petty insults.

“But when I called him on it, asked how I could trust him if he couldn’t trust me, he called me childish! After that I left, but when I called him this morning, he said he was out at a gay bar last night! _Without me!_ Like, how can I trust _he’s_ not the one sleeping with other dudes?”

He glanced to Dennis, looking fully invested peering into the neck of his beer and pretending he heard none of this. So predictable.

“So that’s it? You two are taking a break because you think Science Bitch may sleep with another guy, all because he thinks _you_ might sleep with another guy?”

“Or girl,” Charlie corrected. The Waitress was still a possibility. “But, I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

 

* * *

 

_6:27 p.m. University of Pennsylvania_

Playing hard to get was supposed to be easy. Charles warned him previously Dennis was pushy and manipulative, but Doc was sure in his stance that this one sided flirtation would strictly stay that way. With the knowledge of the D.E.N.N.I.S. system drilled into his memory by Charles, and the simple fact Dennis was a terrible person, Doc was sure that there would be nothing more than words exchanged between them.

As he cleaned his desk, organizing his paperwork for the last time that evening, Doc felt eyes watching his every move from behind. He’d made the mistake of standing, turning his back to Dennis as he gathered his things.

_Demonstrate Value_

Doc was unsure what constituted this, maybe the simple fact he considered himself a better option than Charlie in every way? Or that last night at the bar he’d talked endlessly about all the ‘good things’ he did in his spare time. All of it Doc knew for a fact to be total BS. But, it seemed Dennis was already onto part two.

_Engage physically_

Doc flinched as a pair of hands entrapped his hips, unkind fingers digging into the fabric of his pants, holding him steady.

 

* * *

 

_10:03 a.m. Charlie and Frank’s Apartment_

“What the hell is Science Bitch doing here?” Frank yelled, pointing threateningly at the well dressed man amongst the filth. “You two better not be fucking on the futon Charlie! I’m not sleeping on it if you two’ve been doing butt stuff-“

“Frank!” Charlie ran forward, attempting to push Frank back out the door. “We’re not having sex! Okay? Can you just leave us alone?”

“Uh-uh!” Frank shoved back, Charlie easily giving up and allowing him to waddle into the center of the room. “I draw the line at you two having sex in here!”

“We’re not- wait, you bring hookers back to the apartment all the time! And _I_ can’t have sex in here? What the hell man!”

 “That’s different, Charlie!” Frank scowled as he glared at Science Bitch, looking concerned about every aspect of his current existence. “We don’t do butt stuff! Never on the bed!” 

“Alright! Alright!” Charlie screeched and threw his hands in the air, allowing Frank to stay. “Doc, don’t worry. Frank won’t rat us out, he’s got nothin’ to gain from it.”

Science Bitch looked skeptical, cautious of even moving in the filthy deteriorating room.

But, Charlie went on: “Repeat it back to me, I gotta make sure you know it.” 

“Charles this is hardly necessarily-“

“If you don’t know it the whole plan’s gonna fall apart! Now c’mon Doc, one more time!”

Rolling his eyes and shifting his weight, shoes sticking to the carpet as he moved, he gave in. “Demonstrate value, engage physically, nurture dependence, neglect emotionally, inspire hope, and separate entirely.”

Charlie clapped his hands together, looking as if he may leap at Doc and kiss him for his efforts. However, neither Doc nor Frank looked thrilled at the prospect so he clasped his hands on his hips to keep himself back. “Good! Ok, so you gotta make sure you can remember these. If you don’t, the plan is screwed.”

“What plan?” Frank croaked from the edge of the futon, looking warily between Charlie and Science Bitch.

“Frank, it’s none of your business,” Charlie snapped.

Frank frowned, eyes narrowing. “Is it about Dennis? Why’s Science Bitch gotta know the system?” 

Charlie waved him off.

“Charles, trust me. I will be able to recognize Dennis’s ridiculous system.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” Charlie corrected. “Dennis has slept with hundreds of women. Not sure if it works on guys, but we’ll see. No doubt he’s gonna try and test it on one of us.”

“Me,” Doc said simply.

“Okay, but it could be me.” Charlie gestured to himself, hair unkempt, dirty clothes, and crooked grin.

“Nah,” Frank piped in. “If Dennis is gonna try and fuck anyone it’ll be this bitch. More his type.” 

Charles glanced over his shoulder to glare, only to catch Doc smirking when he turned back around. “It doesn’t matter! The point is we _both_ have to be on our guard around him.”

“Charlie, do you really think Dennis is trying to sleep with you two? If anyone it’s Mac who’s gonna try.” 

“Oh my God, Frank!” Charlie turned hands raised in agitation. “You’re not a part of this! Mac’s already sleeping with Cherry, just let us do our plan and you’ll get a good laugh out of it, yeah?”

 “Who the fuck is Cherry?”

 

* * *

 

_4:32 p.m. Paddy’s Pub_

It may have taken Dee and Dennis hours to notice his moping, but at the very least they _noticed_ him. Unlike Mac, who no one except Charlie realized was missing the entire day.

That was until he came in, damn near _skipping,_ with a blonde twenty something on his arm. Charlie didn’t recognize her, _him,_ until he spoke; shocked that that’s what lay under thirty pounds of makeup and synthetic hair.

“Guys! Great news!” Mac announced at the door, beaming brightly to the man beside him. “I’m gay!”

Everyone remained silent, Charlie grinning as he caught Dennis’s jaw tightening. Dee looked horrified, Frank disoriented, and Dennis, much to Charlie’s delight, was miserable. Mac’s boy-toy, blonde and taunt, as tall as Dennis and far more youthful in his appearance, was a perfect competitor. Eyes melded on Mac with a subdued rage Charlie had never seen in Dennis before, didn’t even know was possible.

Dee sputtered, the first to speak. “You’re- _you’re_ coming out?!”

Mac nodded, suddenly going from cloud nine to crash landing, looking terrified. “I mean, yeah. Yeah, I’m gay. I think I’ve been for awhile.” 

Scoffing, Dee looked to the others for support. “Well we all _knew,_ just never thought you’d come out.”

Frank and Charlie nodded in agreement. Dennis stayed statuesque, perched at the end of the bar and looking down his empty bottle as if it were far more interesting.

“Who’s the queer?” Frank spat, eyeing the stranger holding onto Mac; the contrast between the two was undeniable. Mac, muscular, tan, and insecure, paired with a blonde, elegant damn-near child, perched with a confidence Charlie had only seen rivaled in one other.

“This is my boyfriend,” 

“Hey,” He met eyes with Charlie in particular and gave a wink. “Call me Cherry if you like.”

 

* * *

 

_6:27 p.m. University of Pennsylvania_

Despite his attempt to remain collected, Doc couldn’t help the yelp that escaped him as Dennis’s hands gripped his hips. Charles had gone over Dennis’s schemes in detail; according to Charles, Dennis took every relationship slowly. Lulling his victims into a false sense of security. Dinners, dates, meetups, _then_ came ‘engage physically’. And yet, Doc seemed to be the exception, not the rule.

Doc tried to pull away, chuckling if only to try and wave the touch off as an inappropriate tease. But he was trapped, caught between unwelcome hands and the front of his desk.

“Shouldn’t you buy me dinner first?” He joked, laughing still from nerves and fear.

But Dennis was laughing too, forcefully. Sporting a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Well, I think we can agree this isn’t a conventional relationship.”

“Ah,” Doc was forceful in his removal of Dennis’s hands, though not harsh. He was able to turn to face Dennis, ready to shove the bastard back, when he only pushed closer. His leg pressing firmly between Doc’s, entrapping him once again.

“I’m not- Charles-“

But he was silenced, tongue thrust past his lips and hand wrapping threateningly around his throat, pressing a thumb into the shadow of a bruis Charles had left weeks ago. Despite everything; his trembling legs, pounding heart, fear scratching at his brain and telling him to _fight! Shove! Scratch!_ Doc remained still, allowing it to happen. Allowing Dennis to pull away and ramble as Doc retreated inward, struggling to shut down his reactions.

“Fucking Mac, I hate that fucking asshole. Comes out to the whole fucking bar without even telling me first,”

Dennis’s hands slid to Doc’s waistband, lips finding solace against his neck. He nips at that still sensitive spot, and a realization strikes Doc as Dennis does so.

“Fuck Charlie. He can’t fuck you like I can. You like kinky shit Doc? Yeah, you’re a fucking slut.”

He bites down, _too hard._  No doubt attempting to leave a mark where he’d seen Charles do so their first night on that perverted footage. That’s where Doc draws the line. He knows the plan, but this wasn’t part of it.

Kicking with his knee he caught the bastard off guard, and as Dennis doubles over Doc slips away. He’s able to collect himself, panting overpowered by Dennis’s curses and groans. When the bastard is finally able to stand straight ready to confront Doc, he can’t help his palm from finding sharp satisfaction in the loud _crack_ that follows when it makes contact with his skin.

Dumbstruck, clutching his crotch and his reddening face, Dennis looks up in awe. He can’t speak, forced to listen as Doc goes off.

“How dare you! I agreed to go to dinner with you, not sleep with you! In my office of all places! And just because Charles and I are taking a break does not mean you can come in here and expect me to have sex with the first man I see! Not to _mention,_  you didn’t even ask! Throwing yourself on someone like that, _that is assault!_ You are a repulsive, sadistic man, Dennis Reynolds! Fuck off!”

He’s panting at the end of it, barely able to catch his breath. Dennis is still staring, hands locked against his burning cheek and aching groin. Doc dare say the poor bastard looked hurt. At the very least it was a serious blow to his ego, and Doc couldn’t help the satisfaction gained from that.

“Apologize!” Doc demanded, and Dennis is _whining._

“I’m sorry,” he hissed, eyes looking to the floor in shock. It’s hard to tell with his hand covering half his face, but Doc suspected a trace of wetness pricking the corners of his eyes. It sounded insincere, but it was something. Enough for Doc. 

“Get out.”

 

* * *

 

_1:07 p.m. A Restaurant in South Philly_

The last few days had been wild, to say the least. When Dennis has claimed Cherry and her friends were all dudes, Mac was beyond skeptical. They were the coolest women he’d ever clicked with, other than the tranny. Mac had grappled with that whole issue since she got hitched, and Mac struggled to understand why every other woman he met paled in comparison.

Then there was Cherry, who seemed to revamp his lust in a way no other chick had in years. To find out she had a dick too, and not even tits, was a bit of a shock. To be honest he hadn’t really believed Dennis when he said they were in drag, not even Cherry when she confirmed it. Not until after hours of dancing, when Cherry pulled him into a dark corner, and showed him what a tuck actually was, did Mac _finally_ let the realization sink in. But he didn’t have time to ponder the church doctrine and moral complexities, seeing as Cherry already had her, _his?_ manicured nails exploring the curves of his ass.

He would have liked to use the excuse he was drunk, that if he’d been sober he would have pulled away from where she was so firmly pressing their hips together, but he wasn’t. Hadn’t had a beer in hours. Mac was stone cold sober as a drag queen held him tight in the back corner of a gay club, hands squeezing his ass and red lips staining every inch of his jaw. Despite the silicone tits, despite Cherry’s Adam apple bouncing against his thumb as he went to brush back a strand of blonde wig, and despite the dick currently released of its duct taped prison and pressing firmly against Mac’s thigh, he was into it.

So into it in fact that he texted him the next day.

 

🍒 Cherry 🍒  
  
Last night was fun  
  
sure was 😉  
  
Are you free again this week? Drinks?  
  
I don’t have work tmr, want to meet up?  
  
Sounds good! I’m free all day too

It had been a lie. Fuck work, Paddy’s could go one day without him.

 

How about a late lunch? Then we can figure out what to do after  
  
Sounds great! 😀

 

He'd never been so nervous to meet up with a girl before, but now, knowing Cherry wasn’t even going to _look_ like a girl when they met made him terrified. Would he recognize him? What if he didn’t like guy Cherry? What if he wasn’t actually gay but only attracted to women with dicks, but then Cherry wasn’t a woman? He’d worked himself up into such a frenzy that he jumped when someone sat with a thud across the table.

But unlike he feared, he recognized him easily. Out of drag, without all the makeup and glitter, Cherry looked surprisingly normal. Tall for one, taller than Mac even without those insane heels. And still blonde, though more a dusty rather than platinum. And naturally much more svelte, but fit enough Mac felt a little self conscious. If Mac was a wrestler, then Cherry was a runner.

“What’s with the look?”

“Hmm?” Mac snapped his eyes back up, having gotten lost in the lean muscles of Cherry’s arms.

Cherry smiled shyly, and Mac wasn’t sure why his stomach was twisting so painfully at that look. He was just a kid, and it took Mac off guard. He didn’t consider himself old, but Cherry certainly hadn’t hit 30 yet.

“You’re lookin’ at me like I’m gonna fight ya. I’m not, if that’s what you’re thinkin’.”

Shaking off his nerves (and failing miserably) Mac gave a long drawn out “Err,” as he called his thoughts back. “I’m just- how old are you?”

“21,” Cherry said with a wicked smirk that to Mac felt wrong in all the right ways.

He wasn’t sure why he laughed at that either, but his harsh single scoff broadened into a grin. “21? Oh my God, you’re a twink!”

Cherry nodded, though looking a little lost. “I guess, but I’m kinda tall for that.” 

Mac could only shake his head, bewildered by this. All this. Sitting here with a twink, on a _date!_ His first gay date! Was he shaking his leg? Was that why the table was shaking?

“Are you okay?” Cherry asked sincerely, leaning across the table to rest his hand on Mac’s arm.

“Yeah, yeah.” Mac insisted, eyes locked on the hand. “I’m… I’ve never done this. Been on a date with a dude. Like, I think I might be gay.”

Cherry laughed, almost cruelly, and Mac really wanted to hear it again. “Honey, I think you’re gay. I was only in the closet 16 years, I can’t imagine being your age and still in denial.”

Mac frowned. _My age?_ But Cherry went on:

“It’s fine, I don’t mind dating a newbie. So you’re not out? To anyone?”

Shaking his head, Mac thought about it. His parents couldn’t know. But the gang, they might be cool with it. Charlie would at least, since he was apparently half-gay or whatever. And Dennis! Dennis was his best friend, he’d be more than understanding. Maybe it’d get him out of this whole Charlie and Doc feud. Push him back into reality. 

“Well you’re out to me, that’s something!” Cherry playfully slapped his arm and threw himself back into his chair. 

“And God,” Mac muttered bitterly. If he was gay, he was going to hell. Maybe if he left now, went to confession, God would let this whole mess blow over and-

“You religious?”

Mac nodded, usually proud of the fact but right now wishing he’d been a heathen instead. Condensed to hell from the start so the loss of heaven wouldn’t be so bad.

“Me too! Catholic?” 

Mac must have made a face because Cherry laughed at him again. “You can be religious and gay.” 

“No you can’t. The Bible says-“

“Mac, the Bible isn’t the be all end all.” 

“But the Pope-“ 

“Mac, Mac. Sweetie,” Cherry leaned across the table. “I’m happy to argue  doctrine all day and night, but I wanna eat first. Now, you gonna’ stay and accept the fact you’re probably gay, or go to confession? Because I’m eating with or without ya’.”

 

* * *

 

_6:57 p.m. University of Pennsylvania_

He hadn’t stopped shaking since Dennis left. He’d waited to pick up his phone for what could have been minutes, but felt like an eternity. He was trying to wait until he felt sure he could dial the numbers without mistake. Even still, he was trembling as he sat in his desk chair, chewing his nails and waiting.

he couldn’t remember what he’d told Charles over the phone, if he’d even spoken  he could only remember the loss of Charles voice at the end of a promise to be there as soon as possible  then, he’d waited  minutes, hours? Alone and ashamed he didn’t just fight back sooner.

“Doc?” Charles voice broke through the barriers he’d formed in an attempt to ward off any feeling. He glanced to the doorway, watching as Charles ran to his side, hands suddenly on him in comfort.

“Are you ok? Doc? Oh shit, Doc.”

He didn’t like to be seen like this, never did. To lose control of one’s actions. To give control away freely, was one thing. But to have it snatched, even for a moment, was terrifying. He didn’t want to appear weak, like these tears were a monument to his failure to collect himself properly.

Charles, Charles was the only one allowed to know.

As Charlie’s rough hands gently brushed aside his hair, he broke down into his chest. He could feel Charlie shaking too, that sense of empathy breaching all need to explain and simply being present.

“We don’t have to do this anymore,” Charlie assured. “Isn’t worth it.”

But Doc shook his head, words muffled as he spoke into the soft wet fabric of Charlie’s shirt. “A scare, that’s all.”

 

* * *

  

_6:57 p.m. Dennis and Mac’s Apartment_

Things had escalated in a matter of hours. In a single day Mac had come out, had his first gay date, and debated the infallible teachings of God and Jesus. All thanks to Cherry, who surprised Mac with the fact he hadn’t slept through his religion class, and actually had some decent counter arguments regarding catholic doctrine. 

It was his dream date. Cherry and him sitting on his couch, discussing Jesus and Mac for once in his life feeling like someone other than Dennis just _got_ him. Cherry was young, talked about catholic school like it was just last week, knew his shit. Plus, he liked to tease Mac just as Dennis did. Poke holes in his arguments and fill them with his own.

When he’d gone so far as to quote Proverbs 19:22 word for word, Mac jumped him. Cherry wasn’t caught off guard, letting Mac pull him firmly onto his lap. The couch in the living room was awkward for his long legs, dangling off either side of Mac’s, but there was no way they were going to give up. No sir, Mac wanted Cherry on him just like this, center of the damn apartment.

Before Mac would have snuck around; with the Tranny he insisted on going to her place or strictly staying in his room to avoid Dennis’s judging gaze. But fuck Dennis. Cherry, Cherry fucking deserved to be on a pedestal center of the room. Mac wanted him seen by anyone who dare come, because really, Cherry was the coolest cross dresser he’d ever met. Coolest dude he’d ever met who wanted to fuck him.

Without the tuck, the thirty pound wig, the skin tight dress stuffed with silicone and foam, Cherry fit perfectly in his arms. Lanky, and a bit too long to kiss comfortably, but so thin Mac could just wrap him up and hold him there, and Cherry fucking _moaned_ because of it. His hands holding Mac’s face to try and reach him.

Desperate for more, to finally end today officially as a gay man, Mac began pulling off clothes. First Cherry’s shirt, then his own. He’d planned on getting hold of Cherry’s jeans, but the kid slipped from his grasp and was already a step ahead. Mac decided it best to keep up and slipped out of his own. The minute his legs were free, both naked in the middle of his living room, Cherry lunged, throwing them both back on the sofa and sending it sliding a few inches back from the force.

“Fuck yeah,” Mac groaned, feeling a dick press against his stomach and really starting to enjoy the feeling. Was this what Charlie felt with Doc? Made sense why he liked it. Honestly, Mac couldn’t imagine why Charlie even still liked women if guys could provide it all.

Cherry ran his tongue along Mac’s jaw, slipping into his mouth and silencing him once again. He wasn’t very graceful, sort of stiff as he rocked against Mac in desperation. Mac had watched enough of Dennis’s sex tapes to know that good sex was all about owning your confidence, taking your time. Cherry had one, but not the other.

He was already rambling on about condoms and lube when Mac’s mind caught up.

“Dennis might have some in his room,” but he didn’t want- he wasn’t ready for that. “Can’t we just take it slow?”

Cherry was already back on him, giggling as he kissed down his chest, distracted by something new. “Sorry, forgot. Your first time. Probably wanna wait till next time for that, huh?”

Mac could only nod, Cherry still talking above him. “Condoms! Still need that though, where are they?”

Before Mac could speak Cherry had stood, waiting patiently as Mac sat up, thoughts taking forever to form. “Uh, I think there’s some in my room.”

Cherry didn’t move, only looked to him with a _well?_ So, Mac reluctantly got up and went in search, dick getting softer by the minute in his hunt. Finally he gave up, passed by the couch with a “one second,” as he headed to Dennis’s room. He knew Dennis hated them, but at the very least _may_ have a box somewhere.

He did, in the tape drawer. He hadn’t looked in there in ages and was shocked to find _Charlie & Science Bitch Collection _ scribbled on one, four stars. He froze, eyeing the one beside it. _Charlie, Science Bitch, & Waitress, _two stars. He tucked the box of condoms beneath his arm and plucked the four-star tape from its collection, reluctant to close the drawer. 

“What’s that?” 

He jumped, spilling condoms across the floor and turning to Cherry, leaning over his shoulder. Before he could argue he snatched the tape to read the label allowed.

“What the hell are these?”

“They’re my roommates,” Mac tried to grab at the tape, Cherry held it high above his head. “Charlie? As in my Professors boyfriend?”

Mac scowled, unable to reach the tape and frustrated at the smirk playing on Cherry’s lips. “Professor? That dork’s your Professor?”

“Yeah, I took his biology class last semester. Recognized him from the few times he went to our shows at the club. Comes in all the time now. What is this? Why’s your roommate got all these tapes?”

Mac was able to jump and grab the tape, placing it back into its home. “I don’t know,” Mac lied. 

“They sex tapes?” Cherry teased. “What, is my professor some sort of exhibitionist? Oh man, I thought he was kinky with his boyfriend was under the table last night, but this-“

“What are you talking about?” Mac didn’t really care, wasn’t really listening. Just wanted to get out of this room before-

The front door slammed, and before Mac could register the stomping footsteps, Dennis had barged into his own room, fuming though taken aback by the sight of Mac and his new lover naked before him. Mac and Dennis locked eyes, and Mac knew something horrible had just happened. Some sort of humiliation Dennis had not faced in years. His eyes were red, wild, sealed onto Mac as if he were ready to kill him.

“What are you doing in my room?” He growled low, voice thick with anger.

“Sorry,” It was Cherry, smiling unaware of the danger they were in. Especially since Dennis didn’t fucking know him like he knew Mac. “Looking for a condom.”

Dennis looked down to the floor, the scattered foil packets littering it. “Looks like you found them.”

Cherry seemed to be catching on, especially after glancing over to Mac who looked guilty and terrified. “I think I better go,”

“Yeah,” Mac agreed.

“Yeah!” Dennis mocked as the two passed by, slamming the door on their backs.

“Text me later?” Cherry asked as he slipped back into his clothes, but Mac kept his eyes on Dennis’s door.

“Huh? Yeah, sure.”

Cherry left, Mac unsure if he’d even said goodbye. Didn’t matter. He slipped his jeans back on and knocked on Dennis’s door as fought with his belt.

“What!?” Dennis screeched. Mac could hear him pacing, back and forth like a trapped animal. Unsure where to go or how to escape.

“Wanna talk about it?”

The door flung open, revealing Dennis, still fuming, spitting as he hissed: “Leave me the _fuck_ alone Mac! And stay out of my fucking room!” 

It slammed shut, leaving Mac hurt yet unsurprised. If he’d expected to get his gay virginity taken tonight, that ship had sailed, and his dick wasn’t gonna get interested in anything else. So, he settled on ordering pizza, Dennis’s favorite kind, and hoping that may appease God for the time being.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey thanks again for all the comments/kudos. Since this was a fic for an old niche ship that I just really had a spark of inspiration for, I’m shocked that it’s gotten the attention it has. Not gonna lie I’m running out of ideas so I’m hoping to wrap this story up in another chapter or two, so thanks y’all.
> 
> Honesty, this is the longest work I have ever written and it has been more of a way to prove to myself that I could actually get an entire fic done, so I’m pretty happy with it. Also, fun fact: this fic is so long (118 pages) it crashes my phone each time I open to edit anymore. That’s also a big reason why I need to wrap it up lol.
> 
> Fun fact #2: if any of you are interested in Pinterest aesthetics I have one for this fic so thought I’d share it here: https://pin.it/3sveltmoiwfx2x


	9. Incident? What Incident?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other night, the ‘incident’ had been an accident. A slip up when his guard was down and he was at his most vulnerable. A spilled drink when drunk in the grand scheme of life. But this was a disaster of epic proportions. A dam breaking, drowning Dennis before he had a chance to hold his breath and brace for impact. There was no going back, and it almost broke Dennis to realize he didn’t want to.
> 
> Mac reached forward again, and Dennis decided he better hold his breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I 👏 am 👏 the 👏 worst 👏 
> 
> Hey y’all, I had summer school and broke my wrist and have been stressing because my next classes start in less than a week but I got this MONSTER of a child out (like... months later than expected but...meh) and the finale one will probably take just as long. So many loose ends to tie up. But, it will be only one more chapter. I’m fresh out of ideas (and fucks, literally and figuratively) for this story and honestly I want to move on to bigger and brighter fandoms but really, I love you guys. Hope you enjoy!

 

* * *

 

 

“Order! _Order!_ ” The echo of the gavel silenced the numerous voices competing to be heard over the others, leaving the stunned collection of idiots waiting before the Judge.

“Mr. Kelly,” the Judge leaned over their bench, staring down Charlie. “You’ve elected to act as your own defense, correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

The Judge frowned, eyes fixed on Charlie smiling from the defense table, alone. Behind him, a short old man peering through thick black glasses, a younger man with sharp eyes fixed on the back of the defendants head, and a blonde woman who was set on chewing the inside of her cheek as her eyes moved between the defendant, the Judge, the men beside her, and the plaintiff. None of his friends seemed to agree with this decision, as they all looked to the Judge in a silent plea to reason with him.

“Mr. Kelly,” the Judge tried again, “the accusations brought against you are serious ones. It is your right to request an attorney, at no cost to you.”

The defendant released a hot breath, smile faltering as he glared across the room to the plaintiff, more importantly the plaintiffs lawyer.

“My ‘lawyer’ decided he rather get _paid,_ so no. I do _not_ want a lawyer.”

“Charlie,” the lawyer cooed as he shook his head, mustache twitching and nervously blinking between the Judge and defendant. “We’re family! I’m only representing Dennis because he’s offered something you can’t. Something more valuable than money.”

Eyes amongst those at the front of the room all locked, everyone looking to the plaintiff in unsureness. The plaintiff, now sunk low in his chair with sunglasses dipping down beneath his hand to hide from the scrutiny of the defenses side, kicked his lawyer beneath the table.

“Shut up!” He hissed.

“Enough!” The Judge looked back to Charlie. “Mr. Kelly, your defense does not have to be Mr. Kelly, uh, senior. We have other lawyers available provided by the city that could review your case-“

“Your highness,” Charlie raised his arms in defeat. “I’d rather take my chances and just get this over with.”

Those behind Charlie all turned red, frowning even deeper.

“Don’t interrupt me again,” the Judge warned. “Alright, let's get this done. We have Reynolds versus Kelly. Mr. Reynolds, you are seeking damages for intentional infliction of emotional distress, assault and battery, assault with a deadly weapon, trespassing, and defamation in the compensation of one million dollars and a restraining order of one hundred feet. Is that all?”

The plaintiffs lawyer sat silently, staring at his lap as though he had completely ignored all that had been said. The plaintiff nudged him, both whispering frantically under their breath. Even with the sunglasses the Judge could sense Mr. Reynolds rolling his eyes as he assured: “Yes, yes that’s correct.”

The two continued to argue in hushed voices as the Judge turned back to Charlie. “Mr. Kelly you are counter suing for intentional infliction of emotional distress, assault and battery, and trespassing. You’re seeking compensation of a quarter ownership of the plaintiffs business, Paddy’s Pub, a raise in pay to ten dollars an hour, and fifty dollars in cash. _Jesus Christ_ , you wouldn’t like to add defamation to make it even?”

“No sir, I can hear just fine.”

The Judge frowned, watching as one of the defendants supporters leaned over the back of Mr. Kelly’s chair and tried whispering to him.

“Sir,” the Judge warned, feeling her blood pressure rise and they’d only been in the courtroom fifteen minutes.

“Sorry, your honor.”

“Your honor,” Charlie raised his hand to speak.

“Yes, Mr. Kelly.”

“Can I request a co-council? A not lawyer co-council?”

The Judge, really _really_ wanted to get this case finished, go home, and eat some dinner. She usually would have dismissed this nonsense by now. Dismissed both sides for their sheer stupidity and kicked all these idiots out. But, reluctantly, she was interested in just how fucking weird this could get. It was the last day she had in court this week, and the final trial of the day. Something this nuts was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and made a great story for dull parties. 

The Judge glanced to the court reporter, Catherine, and smiled. Catherine smiled back sweetly, looking in no rush to go home early. Hell, maybe if this case went on long enough they’d just _have_ to eat out, no time to cook dinner and all that.

The Judge looked to the man who had leaned over the gallery. “And who are you to the defendant?”

“I’m his, er, well boyfriend.”

“This is Doc, and -“ Mr. Kelly twisted in his seat to point to the woman next to his boyfriend. “That’s my girlfriend-.”

“I’m not your girlfriend.” The woman crossed her arms in defiance and refused to look at the defendant.

_This was turning into a soap opera._

“Mr. Kelly, I will allow your boyfriend to sit with you only on the condition that he, one, will not be a distraction in this case and, two, will assist you in understanding the proceedings.”

The man quickly stood and shuffled his way past the bench and through the barrier, slipping into the seat beside Charles.

“If it’s alright with everyone, I think we better get this show on the road. Mr. Kelly- the _plaintiffs_ lawyer Mr. Kelly- you may give your opening statement.”

“Thank you. You’re honor,” Jack Kelly stretched as he made his way to the center of the floor, hands flexing in the air, “My client has suffered under the small, pathetic hands of the defendant for months now. Harassed, violently attacked, and finally so emotionally distraught that it has left my client shaken to his very core. This man!” Jack Kelly swung his fist, pointing to Charlie, “Must be held accountable.”

Without an explanation to why they were there, or the reasons for the civil charges, Jack Kelly sat down. Looking back to his hands as his client frowned, about ready to strangle the man.

“Mr. Kelly, your turn. Please, for the love of God, tell us why we’re here.”

Charlie stood slowly, making a show of walking to the center of the room, arms wide and looking out to the near empty gallery. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and birds. Why are we here? Why are _any_ of us here?”

“Mr. Kelly,” the Judge warned.

“Sorry,” Charles put his arms down, instead steepling his hands beneath his chin. “We are here, not because of my mistakes, but because of one Dennis Reynolds and _his_ perverted habits. He has not only harassed and assaulted me numerous times over the last twenty years I’ve known him, _including_ shooting me. But, water under the bridge. All friends have their fights. Their drama. However, since I came out as being in love with a man-“

Charlie then pointed to said man, who sunk lower in his seat to hide from the eyes of the court now looking to him.

“Dennis has turned from friend, to fiend! His aggravations have transgressed the boundaries of friendship, including filming our sexual relationship in secret, breaking into my boyfriends apartment, attempting to sexually assault both myself and Doc, and most importantly, drugged my boyfriend and girlfriend so they would cheat on me. Jokes on you Dennis, I got a threesome!”

“Mr. Kelly!” The Judge caught his attention and he turned back around, looking proud of his opening statement. “Mr. Kelly, these accusations are far more serious than typically seen in civil court,”

Charlie laughed, glancing back to Doc. “Yeah, I know. Ok, maybe I went a little far in my revenge, but you have to see he pushed us to a point where we had to do something extreme!”

“Mr. Kelly, I mean _your_ accusations of Mr. Reynolds behavior are serious. You should consider filing multiple reports to the police, you _and_ your significant others.” The Judge looked pointedly to the seemingly far more reasonable adults Mr. Kelly had labeled as his boyfriend and girlfriend.

“Your honor, no offense, but I rather just settle all this now. If we go to the police it’s gonna be a whole thing and really we only have the creepy sex tapes as evidence and I still work at Paddy’s so it’d be super awkward-“

The Judge frowned, looking over the room and the lack of interest in everyone’s faces at taking this to a separate court. “Mr. Kelly, I’m going to give you some advice.”

She gestured for him to approach the bench, which he did so reluctantly. “If you will not take this to a criminal court, I highly recommend you alter your damages compensation.”

“To what?”

“Mr. Reynolds is suing you for one million dollars, and according to your current demands he doesn’t even pay you the states legal minimum wage. I would recommend you increase the amount of money you’re suing for.”

“So, like, a hundred?”

“Higher.”

“One fifty?”

“Mr. Kelly’s co-council, approach the stand.”

Doc quickly jumped to his feet and speed walked to the bench.

“If none of you wish to take this to criminal court, please advise Mr. Kelly to increase his demands.”

“Oh trust me, I’ve tried.”

“Ok, well then two-hundred dollars _and_ minimum wage,” Charlie said bitterly. “That’s all I can afford to lose.”

“What? Charlie, that’s what you would gain.”

“Yeah, if I win. But if I lose then I gotta give Dennis two-hundred, which is, like, a months paycheck!”

“Oh _God_ Charlie! Say you’d like to change it to a million dollars and minimum wage.”

“I can’t afford that!”

“I’ll explain it to you later, just trust me. Tell the Judge.”

Reluctantly, Charlie muttered to the Judge “I’d like to change my lawsuit to a million dollars and minimum wage.” 

“Granted,” the Judge sat back and motioned for them to return to their seats. “We may proceed. The plaintiff may begin.”

Jack Kelly jumped to his feet. “Your honor, I’d like to call Deandra Reynolds as first witness.”

Dee rose from her seat behind Dennis, leisurely making her way to the stand dressed in all black, ready for a funeral. When she reached the bench, she lifted her head for the first time to the court. Charlie squinted as she sat down, realizing something wasn’t quite right.

“Dee, what the hell happened to your face?”

Dee flipped her hair and frowned, looking funny as she still had to keep her mouth open to breathe. Bandages stretched tight over her nose, purple bruising peeking out the corners as she gaped at Charlie. “You goddamn asshole! You know _exactly_ how I -“

“Mrs. Reynolds!”

“Mrs?!” Dee and Dennis snapped. 

“ _Miss_ Reynolds is the plaintiffs sister,” Jack tried to explain before:

“I don’t care who she is to the plaintiff, you will refrain from outbursts like that in this court. Am I clear?”

Dee nodded, glare landing right back on Charlie as she wheezed through her tape.

“Miss Reynolds,” Jack stepped up to the stand, one hand resting on his hip, the other leaning on the front of the wood paneling with unsure confidence, “Would you please tell the court about the twenty-four hours leading up to your brothers assault, from your perspective.”

Dee tried to smile, wincing painfully as she did so, and looked around the courtroom. Even in pain, she took a deep breath and shut her eyes, getting in the ‘zone’ for her monologue; her star debut. And all these bastards better fucking listen. 

“Of course. Last Friday morning I was at Paddy’s Pub getting ready for the week. Spring break, all the college kids who can’t afford to go to Miami hit the cheapest bars in Philly, so naturally it’s one of our biggest weeks.

I show up, start taking inventory, nobody else comes to work. Which, yeah, not unheard of but it’s spring break! Usually Charlie at the very least is killing rats or whatever he does in the basement all day. And Dennis, well I don’t think Dennis has missed a morning beer at Paddy’s _ever._ And Mac’s followed Dennis around like a lost dog since high school, so it was just weird that _I_ was the _only one_ who bothered to show up that day, not to mention annoying since I had to get everything ready myself. 

As I was filling the taps, Frank shows up completely out of it. I thought maybe he’d taken too much ...er… too many of his meds, or had a stroke. He sat on the floor babbling about how he couldn’t find his gun and how Charlie and Science Bitch were up to something. I thought it was all nonsense. 

A few hours go by, Frank finally sobers up and I ask him about the gun again. He has no idea what I’m talking about, tells me to shut up and get back to work. He disappears into the back office, I don’t see or hear from him again that night, thank God. It’s around six or seven, our usual customers start showing up, and still no Charlie. No Mac. No Dennis. I don’t know how I’m supposed to run a bar by myself, especially on one of our busiest nights of the year! So, I call Charlie’s boyfriend, since Charlie still doesn’t have a goddamn cellphone. 

_‘Hello?’_

God I hate that accent,” Dee stopped, taking another breath and trying to mimic a poor excuse for a posh accent, worsened by the broken nose and thick bandages, 

“ _Hello? Why yes, this is Science Bitch! Oh no! Charlie isn’t with me right now I’m afraid, he’s not at work? Oh my! No idea where he could be. Oh well, toodaloo!’_

So, I figured I should call Dennis:

_‘Dennis, why aren’t you at the bar?! No one else is here except Frank and he’s in the back office doing God-knows-what!”_

‘ _Dee! You bitch! Leave me alone! Meh!’_

And then hung up on me! Just like that!  As an absolute last resort, I called Mac.

_‘Dee, now’s not a good time.’_

_‘Listen Mac, I’m the only one at the bar right now and it’s spring break! I’m not dealing with a bunch of freshly twenty-one year olds who can’t hold their beer and don’t tip worth shit! You and Denis need to get your asses down here, right now!’_

_‘Screw you Dee! Go ask Charlie! Dennis and I are trying to work through some things’_

He hung up on me too! Can you believe that?! If all these homos would quit cirle-jerking each other off we might actually get some work done at the bar!”

“Miss Reynolds, I am this close to holding you in contempt of court!”

“Sorry your honor,”

“Your honor!” Charlie raised his hand again. 

“Mr. Kelly, you can question the witness after she’s given her statement.”

“Oh, yeah that’s fine. I just want to submit into evidence that I am not a homosexual, like Dee just stated. I’m in fact bicycle, and she knows that. Therefore she lied on the stand and her statement should be thrown out and she should be kicked out of court.”

“Oh screw you Charlie, you’re still gay!” Dennis snapped, sunglasses slipping down his nose only to be quickly pushed back up before the Judge could see just _what_ was under them. 

“ _Oh?!_ Screw _you_ Dennis! I’m _half_ gay, what’s your excuse you homophobic piece of-“

The sound of the gavel cut them off, the Judge fuming. “Silence! Ms. Reynolds, Mr. Kelly has a very good point. I would be more careful about what you say under oath. Sarcastically or otherwise.”

Dee scoffed, a faint whistle escaping beneath the bandages, but nodded in agreement. “Mhm, of course your honor.”

“Mr. Reynolds and Mr. Kelly, if you interrupt this court again I will throw this case out with no hesitation, understand?”

“Yes your honor,” they both muttered.

“You may continue, Miss Reynolds.”

Dee shifted in the stand, ensuring she regained her composure. “Well, since no one was going to show up, I left. I yelled for Frank to come watch over the bar, told a kid that the owner was in the back if they tried anything funny, and just left.”

“And where did you go, Ms. Reynolds?” Jack interjected.

“To Dennis and Mac’s apartment.”

“And, what was it like when you arrived?”

“Insane,” Dee said matter-of-fact. “As I got to the door I could hear shouting. Mostly Dennis, he was screeching up a storm.”

“Could you hear what he was saying?”

“Something about a misunderstanding, but also just yelling nonsense about being sorry and ‘they’ needed to stop.”

“Are ‘they’ in this room?”

“Yes.”

“Could you please point them out?”

Dee lifted a single finger and pointed at the defense, “Charlie Kelly, and his stupid Science Bitch!”

If the court hadn’t been so empty, it would have been the moment hushed whispers broke out. Instead, the handful of people who were present in the trial looked unimpressed, seemingly already well aware of Charlie’s whereabouts. 

“And then what did you do Ms. Reynolds?”

“I let myself into the apartment. Dennis and Charlie had been fighting for weeks, I didn’t really care what was going on. I planned on just chewing them out for not showing up to work. They weren’t in the living room, so I headed to Dennis’s bedroom. But, when I opened the door, I was…”

Dee hesitated, looking to the floor and frowning. “I was… it was fucked up. A sister should never have to see that.”

Jack stepped to the stand and placed a gentle hand on hers. “It’s ok Ms. Reynolds,”

“Are you wearing makeup on your hands?” Dee squawked, pulling her own hand away in disgust. 

Jack looked like he’d been struck, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “No!” He deflected, “You need to tell the court what you saw!” 

“My brother he... Dennis was...“ she turned red, looking at the wall farthest from Dennis. Dennis looked in the opposite direction, going equally as red. “Tied up. Gagged. Naked. It looked like he’d been beaten. And yeah, Dennis no doubt likes fucked up sex but, like, he was _really_ badly beaten.”

“Go on,” Jack encouraged. 

“I stayed quiet. Sneaking in I shut the door behind me. I told him to shut up so I could untie him, but I had no idea how to. I got the gag from his mouth and he immediately started hissing for me to _‘get out of here! Dee, you need to leave now before they get back!’_

He wouldn’t shut up so I shoved the gag back in his mouth and told him I’d go get a knife to cut him free. But, when I reached for the door- _Bam!”_

Dee slapped her hand against the bench and winced at the over eagerness of her effect. “The door swung open, hit me square in the face.”

“Did you see who opened the door?”

“Well, I was bleeding all over and crying because it _broke my nose!”_ She sent a pointed glare to the defense, Doc being the only one looking marginally guilty as he frowned at her bandages. “Charlie was screaming over me and I couldn’t see anything, but when I finally was able to get up everyone was gone.”

“Thank you Dee, no further questions.”

The Judge seemed completely baffled, but after shaking her head to clear thoughts, addressed Charlie. “Your witness.”

“Thank you your honor. Dee, I only have a few questions for you.” Charlie stood and straightened his tie, but made no move to approach the witness. “Do you know where Mac was at the time you came into the apartment?”

Reluctantly Dee nodded. “Yes, I found him after I stumbled out of Dennis’s room.”

“And where was Mac?”

“In his room.”

“And how do you know this?”

Again, Dee hesitated. “I...heard him.”

“And?” Charlie waited patiently. 

“I heard him in his room but he was...muffled. I made the mistake of going in there too. He was also tied up, gagged, naked. Unlike Dennis had a blindfold on.”

“Uh-huh. And did you help Mac like you were going to help Dennis?”

“Hell no!” Dee scoffed, “I got the hell out of there! I was bleeding all over, and frankly, I didn’t _want_ to know what the fuck you guys were doing.”

“So you didn’t ask the only witness at the scene about what was going on?”

Hesitating, Dee shook her head. 

“So for all you know Dennis and Mac being tied up, _naked,_ on their beds was completely consensual. You really _don’t know_ what was happening in that apartment, and Mac, your only supporting witness, isn’t here.”

“That’s not the point Charlie! You broke my nose! I could give a shit-“

“I’m finished your honor,”

“Whether or not it’s consensual! I just want you to pay for my fu-“

The hard knock of the gavel shut Dee down. “Ms. Reynolds,” the Judge looked sharply down to her. Without a second warning Dee stood up with a huff and returned to her seat.

“We’d like to call our second witness you honor,” Jack announced, hands still firmly locked in his pockets. “Mr. Frank Reynolds, the plaintiffs legal father and the defendants roommate.”

Frank grumbled as he waddled to the stand, sitting firmly down and scowling at both men, _boys,_ on either side of the room. “The both of you ought to be ashamed of yourselves! Behaving like animals!”

“What do you mean by that Mr. Reynolds?” Jack Kelly asked, looking nervously between the defendant and plaintiff as if they really were feral. 

“I mean they’re being dumbasses! All this gay orgy shit Dee walked in on? Dennis trying to fuck up Charlies relationship just to get in either one of their pants? Charlie threatening Dennis after everyone saw him try to kill him in the bar a few weeks ago? It’s gotta stop!”

“Frank are you… are you being sentimental?” Dennis asked, leaning in interest across his table. Charlie’s eyes got wide and a look of softness spread over him. 

“Hell no!” Frank growled. “It’s throwing off my game! How the hell am I supposed to function knowing the bars full of a bunch of gay guys? Or that everybody’s banging each other behind my back?! How do you think that makes me feel? I’ve lived with Charlie for years and not _once_ has he tried to sleep with me!”

A chorus of _eww_ filled the court, cringes sending everyone sitting back in their seats regretting ever allowing him on the stand. 

“Frank, you’re disgusting _and_ straight! Why do you care if Charlie doesn’t try to sleep with you?” Dennis yelled in frustration. 

“Plus you’re probably my dad Frank! And you sleep with my mom _all the time_! Of course I’m not gonna try sleeping with you!”

“That’s a _very_ good point,” Dennis said pointing to Charlie, who pointed back in solidarity. “You are most certainly Charlie’s bastard and it’s gross enough thinking that you two live together, let alone _having sex.”_

“I still wanna feel sexy! I don’t want to sleep with any of you queers either but nobody even tries! I feel left out!”

“Well nobody’s trying to sleep with Dee because she’s gross too, so,” Dennis shrugged, as if that made it clear to Frank. 

“Frank,” Charlie stood, “I think you’re very sexy but I am in _no way,_ ever going to try and sleep with you. _Ever.”_

“I’m sorry,” for the first time Doc spoke. “This is all getting far too weird for me.”

“Agreed,” announced the Judge. “Please return to discussing the current proceedings.”

“Right, Mr. Reynolds, please tell us about your recollection of that evening.” Jack sat down as Frank began:

“Well, I don’t remember much. Charlie and Science Bitch were spending more and more time at our place, though the Doc is a prude and gets pissy whenever Charlie tries to get handsy. Says _‘I’m not comfortable with him in the room,’_ and _‘no, I won't put out unless you throw away Franks things!’_ ”

“I have never once-“ Doc shut up at the glare from the Judge. 

“That morning Charlie was extra pissy about the whole Dennis deal. Saying he was _‘going to get his revenge’_ and _‘Dennis would be sorry’._ I was already pretty out of it before he left. See, my hook up brought me some Percocet the night before and I didn’t realize that does not mix well with rum and Wolf Cola, so the next thing I know Charlie’s gone and I can’t find my gun. I woke up around twelve hours later in the back office of the bar, a bunch of college kids throwing peanuts at me, aiming for my mouth while I snored.” He laughed, thinking back on the good times. 

“When I came out of the office the bar had been trashed, bunch of kids helping themselves. The tip jar was overflowing though, so I pocketed that and left to find out where the rest of the gang went.”

“You left your bar unattended?” The Judge asked, frown deeply set. 

“Course not!” Frank looked to Dennis, explaining “Told Ponderosa he could sell if he just kept an eye on the place.”

“Frank!” Dennis screeched. 

Dee chimed in “We got robbed Frank! All the beer!”

“And cash!” Dennis added. 

“Listen,” Frank shrugged with a smile. “Bill said he’d pay us back, he’s got a connection with some guy down in Rio who-“

“Mr. Reynolds,” Jack stepped forward whispering to him. “Did you find Mac, Dennis, Charlie, or Dee that night?”

Frank sucked his lips in and thought. “No, no, I went back to me and Charlie’s place and crashed again. Didn’t see anyone till the next day back at Paddy’s.”

“No further questions,” Jack turned to Charlie and smirked. “Your witness.”

Charlie didn’t stand. “Frank, where’s your gun now?”

“Right here,” Frank drew his pistol, casually holding it up. 

Chaos ensued- screaming from all parties as Frank was dragged away by security. It all happened so fast most everyone hadn’t even had a chance to finish their sentences before the heavy wood doors shut, Franks little legs the last thing to be seen behind them. When the dust has settled, so to speak, Charlie sat exactly where he’d been when he asked the question looking completely unphased by the commotion, smirk tugging at his lips. “Your honor,”

The Judge was looking terrified at the doors the short man had been dragged, yelling still audible down the hall.

“Your honor,” Charlie tried again, this time snapping to catch their attention. When she looked down to him he continued: “As you can see, Frank Reynolds is a very confused old man, an unreliable witness, and do to this violent outburst I ask his statement be removed from the record.”

“Yes,” the Judge swallowed a lump in her throat and quickly regathered their composure. “Yes, I agree. Catherine, strike Mr. Reynolds testimony from the record.”

They looked to the court transcriber, Catherine, who remained in her corner, having only stopped momentarily in the chaos. She began to scratch off Franks statement when Dennis stood from his seat for the first time. 

“No! Now hold on Catherine! That’s not fair! After all, you heard Frank! He said Charlie took his gun! You can’t throw that out!”

“Mr. Reynolds, your father just brandished a deadly weapon in _my_ court!” The Judges tone made the entire court sit straighter. It was a simple enough explanation, the warning Dennis would be next laden in the words making him sit back down. 

Jack Kelly nervously stood again. “We’d like to call our next witness,” he began riffling through his notes then looked to Dennis. “Who is this?”

Dennis glanced at the name and shrugged.

The Waitress stood, without being called, and made her way to the stand as though it were a personal inconvenience. When she sat down Jack looked back and forth between her and the paper, then to Charlie. “ _You’re_ Charlie's girlfriend?”

Waitress cocked her head and frowned between the two Kelly’s in annoyance. “I am _not_ his girlfriend.”

“But you two slept together, right?”

“Once, but only because Dennis-“

“Why?”

“Excuse me?”

Jack Kelly shifted uncomfortably, looking at his notes again. “Charlie’s been obsessed with you for years. You have filed sixteen restraining orders against him and, well to be honest, you’re kind of a mess. You’ve been to two rehabs in the last three years and have multiple DUI’s, and currently you’re working as a barista right?”

“Yeah, well I’m trying to get my life sorted again.” Looking to Charlie and Doc she shifted in her seat then quickly looked back to Jack. “What the hell does this have to do with Charlie’s case?”

“Well,” Jack hummed and looked down to Dennis momentarily, as if unsure about his own line of questioning. Dennis pushes his sunglasses farther up the bridge of his nose and looked through them at Jack Kelly, wanting him to go on. “Well, why would the defendant _want_ to sleep with you? Even his boyfriend, who by all accounts is gay, was willing to sleep with you in what has been called by some ‘the most fucked up devils three way’.”

“And _who_ said that exactly?” The Waitress spit. 

“My sources wish to remain anonymous.” 

The Waitress scoffed and leaned across the stand. “Because Dennis _filmed us!_ Without us _knowing!”_

“No need to get hysterical-“

That really made her snap. _“Hysterical?!”_ She repeated in disbelief. _“_ I was _drugged_ and _filmed!_ The only _‘fucked up’_ thing about that is _Dennis_ was behind it all!”

“Allegedly,” Dennis chimed in. He rolled his head towards the defense table with a smirk. “I haven’t heard any evidence supporting that claim, let alone these supposed tapes.”

Charlie and Doc frowned, exchanging a concerned glance between themselves and the Waitress. 

“Charlie, what is he talking about?” She crossed her arms and scowled, already knowing the answer awaiting her. 

He hesitated for a moment, fumbling through papers. “Oh yeah that’s- we’re waiting to submit that evidence.”

Gapping at Charlie, Waitress went silent, until finally: “Oh my God. Oh my _God,_ Charlie! Are you serious?!”

“Oh I’m _sorry_!” Charlie threw his hands in the air, sending papers flying. Doc quickly attempted to catch them. “I’ve been doing my best-“

“Your best?!”

“Our witness, who’s supposed to bring the tapes, is late. Ok? But they’ll be here!”

“Are you sure Charlie, because if Dennis-“

The gavel, again, making everyone jump from their skin. “Mr. Kelly, uh, senior. Get this questioning back on track, and this better be relevant. Mr. Kelly, you can not talk to the witness until cross examination.” 

Charlie groaned but leaned across the defense table patiently. Jack Kelly cleared his throat and tried again:

“Why did Charlie Kelly sleep with you?”

“Because he’s in love with me,” she said shortly. 

“And are you in love with him?”

“Absolutely not,” she laughed. At least she was honest, and Charlie liked that about her. 

“Are you in love with Dennis Reynolds?”

The Waitress hesitated. “No, I mean, I like him. But I’m not in love with him.”

“What do you mean by ‘like’?” Jack pushed.

“He’s-“ Waitress cleared her throat and her eyes caught Dennis watching her with a sweet smile from the table. “He’s attractive.”

“Have you ever slept with Mr. Reynolds?”

“Yes,”

“Oh come on!” Charlie howled from the defense table, Doc quickly telling him to hush.

“And did you prefer your sexual exploits with him or the defendants?”

“Your honor,” Doc stood. “Objection. This is highly inappropriate and the only reason for this line of questioning is to rile Charles up.”

Dennis stood as well. “Your honor this line of questioning is important to understand the witnesses state of mind involving myself and the defendant.”

“I’ll allow it,” though the Judge looked skeptical.

“Um,” Waitress went red. “I mean, I’ve had sex with Dennis a couple times and he’s good. Like really _really_ good. But I’ve only had sex with Charlie once and we didn’t do much together.”

“So you prefer to have sex with my client over Charlie Kelly?”

Despite her pitying glance to Charlie, she nodded.

“Would you ever have sex with Charlie Kelly again? Under any circumstances, _without_ his current partner?”

“No, but-“

“Are you ever angry at Dennis for not being attracted to you?”

“Sometimes but-“

“Do you consider my client better endowed physically than Charlie?”

“Your honor!” Doc insisted.

“Sustained, Mr. Kelly you are on thin ice,”

“One more question your honor?” Dennis smirked, tossing a glance to the defense. Charlie had his head down, refusing to look up at the stand. Science Bitch was scowling, looking about ready to scream.

“One more.”

Dennis smiled charmingly to the Waitress. “Are you in love with me?”

A small flicker behind her eyes let Dennis know he’d won. Despite how he loathed her, told her repeatedly he thought she was disgusting, and treated her as such, there was still hope deep down she could win him. The same hope Charlie always held towards her.

“Yes.” Her voice cracked, she couldn’t bear to look at the defense table.

”Your witness.” Dennis tossed a wicked grin towards Charlie as he sat back down.

Charlie stood, but kept his eyes down. It was obvious to everyone who caught them they were red, holding back. “Has Dennis Reynolds filmed your sexual activity without your consent?”

“Yes, multiple times.”

“Has Dennis Reynolds ever given you a drug without your knowledge or consent?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what the drug was?”

“Yes, ecstasy.”

“How do you know it was that drug?”

“I’ve been on it before, I knew what it was hours after I was sober.”

Charlie nodded. Without once looking to her, he asked: “I’d like to request a thirty minute recess.”

“Thirty minutes,” the Judge agreed.

The court felt heavy, Dennis the only one smiling and seemingly happy with the current proceedings. He clapped his hands cheerfully as he stood, looking victoriously around  to the miserable masses. Particularly Charlie, who was hunched over his table as though someone had died.

“I gotta take a leak,” he slapped Jack on the back. “Remember those hand exercises I showed you.”

Jack stayed behind with a dopey look, flexing his fingers as Dennis made his way out of the court.

“Charlie,”

He looked up at the Waitress standing above him. He felt miserable, heartbroken, and worst of all embarrassed. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to be angry. Not like Doc who he could feel radiating annoyance at her approach.

“I’m sorry-“ she tried, but Doc was already jumping to Charlie’s defense.

“Haven’t you done enough?”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Charlie wiped his eyes. “I get it,” because really, he did. He knew exactly how she felt towards Dennis.

Doc stood beside him though, and he was enough.

The Waitress smiled and reluctantly walked away, choosing a seat farther away than she had before. Charlie couldn’t help but stare until Doc spoke, drawing his attention back.

“I need to use the lav.”

“The what?” Charlie giggled, never unamused by the made-up words Doc has for the strangest things.

Doc only smirked and gave Charles a peck on the cheek and a wink before walking off. “Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone,” he called back. Code for  _I’ll get you into more._

 

* * *

 

Pushing the bathroom door open with full force, Dennis strolled inside with a cheery little whistle. For the first time in days he took off his sunglasses, hanging them neatly on the front of his shirt.

Ok, really, he wasn’t sure if he was gonna win this case. He’d call it probably 65% in his favor, but that’s only because Jack Kelly was a moron. In reality, Dennis had thought about representing himself, but stealing Jack away from Charlie’s defense was just another cherry on top.

He caught his reflection in the mirror as he finished zipping up and gave a little wink. It was nice not wincing at the sight of his eyes, though they did sting with the cocky move. 

Turning, Dennis was ready to go back in there and win this when he caught sight of the stalls behind him. Floor to ceiling cubicles, the kind any normal man would have been oblivious to. Dennis though, well, he was observant. Always aware of his surroundings. He had spotted the faint outline of someone peeking behind the stall doors before they pulled back.

Dennis straightened, debating what he should do. He was having a good day, and helping out some poor creep might just be fun. After all, he did have another thirty minutes to kill.

Stepping back from the mirror he turned to the stall door and gave it a little shove. It swung open and, to Dennis’s disappointment, it _was_ some lonely creep looking for desperate men in the bathroom.

“Mac, what the hell are you doing here?” Dennis and him made eye contact, Mac visibly wincing at the sight of Dennis’s. Apparently his eyes _didn’t_ look any better. 

Mac hesitated for a moment. Then, very quietly said “we need to talk about the other night.”

“No,” was Dennis’s answer, plain and simple. There was no way in hell they were discussing this any further. He turned to leave when Mac pulled him back.

“I’m serious Dennis, I really need to talk to you!”

Dennis laughed, trying to play it cool but even he recognized it sounded forced. “Talk? Talk about what Mac? There’s nothing to talk about!”

“You said-“

“I said I didn’t want you at the trial Mac!” Dennis deflected, quickly changing the subject he _knew_ Mac didn’t actually want to discuss. “I told you to stay at the apartment and not talk to Charlie, yet here you are!”

“Dennis-“

“Mac don’t make this weird,” he warned.

“Dennis I’m in love with you!” And he did it. Mac fucking did it. He made it really goddamn weird.

Dennis pretended he didn’t hear, walking as fast as he could to the door. _Nope! Nope, this was not happening!_

“Dennis? Dennis please, Ok! Just listen!” Mac had somehow slipped in front of him, blocking his path. Dennis was strong, but Mac had more muscle in his favor. Plus, Dennis was suddenly feeling very light headed.

“Mac you do not love me,” he tried but Mac was already rambling on.

“I do! Dennis, I’ve been in love with you for years and it wasn’t until the other night with Charlie and Doc that I realized it! That it finally hit me! And really we’re perfect for one another! I’m gay, you’re obviously into dudes too so, like, _it’d work!”_

“It would not!” Dennis yelled, and god he didn’t mean to. _Mac just did this to him!_ “You don’t love me, okay Mac? You’ll find someone. Who’s kind and nice and looks after you, but I just can’t be that guy!”

Mac for a moment looked up to him with those sad, downturned eyes that seemed to burrow right into the crux of Dennis’s chest. “You already are that guy.”

Dennis sighed. “Mac, no. No! Absolutely not! You’re just- you’re just confused! I mean, what about Cherry? He seems nice!”

“But he’s not you!” Mac insisted. “He’ll never be you.”

It took all of Dennis’s willpower not to scratch him. To tell Mac to fuck off and pray to some higher power Mac would go home. Forget this. That things would just go back to normal. “I never should have showed you those tapes,” he muttered.

“Dennis,” Mac suddenly straightened, shoulders back and looking like he was squaring up for a fight.

“What is this? What are you doing?”

“I need to know _now.”_

“What?”

“You know what,” Mac insisted. Dennis, in reality, did not. Mac seemed to realize this and quickly explained: “If you seriously want me to go- because if I leave now I’m never going to ask you again.”

“Ask me what?”

“If you love me.”

Dennis tried to laugh, again. _Him? And Mac? Love!?_ “No! Mac I told you-“

“Dennis,” That was the first time Mac had ever cut him off so firmly. “You need to think about this. If you say no, I’m never coming back. You and I, we’re through.”

“ _You_ and _I_ aren’t a thing Mac-“ he tried to persist. 

“I’ll move out.”

“Now hold on-“

“I’ll leave Philly.”

“Mac, Mac! Just wait-“

“And whether it’s Cherry or some other guy, I’ll never think about you again.”

A bluff. Dennis knew Mac was bluffing. He had to be. There was no way Mac could leave him! He wasn’t allowed! Mac and him, they needed each other! Dennis was lost for words, caught off guard and frantically trying to find a way to make Mac stay. Blackmail? Tears? He had nothing except that surge of fear as Mac turned towards the door and a sudden urge to stop him.

He felt fabric tear beneath his fingers but he didn’t stop. He had Mac by the front of his shirt, pulling him roughly back towards himself. He wasn’t sure who did it, but Mac’s hands were suddenly grasping at his hair, their lips caught between each other’s teeth. 

Shy, insecure Mac had let go of all boundaries, pushing until he had Dennis pinned against the wall of a stall. Dennis was caught off guard, his brain trying desperately to catch up with his dick.

“Don’t,” Dennis tried to warn. His heart was pounding so thoroughly he thought it might burst. He’d never been good at labeling his emotions, but he knew this was fear. Not the generic gut churning fear of a roller coaster or a dark hallway after a scary movie. But the fear when one sees two cars on the freeway just before they collide. The fear mid fall from a ladder, knowing the bones will snap when you hit the ground. The terrifying moments when you loose to the inevitable, and have no way to stop it. Dennis could see it. He’d seen it coming for a long time and this was the impact. And he didn’t fucking deserve it. 

Mac pulled away enough to look over Dennis, ready to stop if Dennis asked. All Dennis had to do was say no. He had to say no! _For Mac, just fucking say no!_

“Don’t what?” Mac asked. Innocent. He was so fucking innocent, searching Dennis’s eyes for his weakness. 

“Don’t go.”

Without hesitation Macs lips returned, tasting every inch of Dennis. Holding him firmly against the wall as Mac, for once in his life, was able to get what he wanted from him. It was rough, threatening in a way Dennis never knew Mac could be. Wordless. Impatient. Hungry. Fucking hot.

Then, Dennis pushed back. 

By some stroke of dumb luck, some supernatural sense, or just plain good hearing, he heard the bathroom door creak open. Mac looked dumbfounded as Dennis quickly closed and locked the stall door, the two of them frozen as footsteps echoed outside. 

Mac was grinning, contagiously. Like a couple of teenagers they were holding back giggles, listening as the unknowing stranger took a piss. Dennis was biting his lower lip firmly, trying to regain some semblance of self control. He and Mac peered through either side of the door, watching as the newcomer washed their hands unawares. 

Much to Dennis’s disdain, it was Science Bitch. Guy couldn’t let Dennis have just one good thing at this point, could he?

Wiping his hands dry he stood back from the mirror, examining himself. He tossed the paper towel and straightened his tie, then smoothed his hair before giving a confident hum. Heading to the door, it swung open nearly hitting him. 

“Oh! Sorry Charles,” stumbling back as Charlie entered.

From what little Dennis and Mac could see, Doc propped himself against the edge of a sink as Charlie lingered by the door. There was a click from the lock, and Dennis and Mac shared a look that was both annoyed, and apprehensive. 

“What are you on trial for, Doctor?”

Doc laughed. He was never very good at role playing, but Charles seemed to love it. Even if their scenarios were always hard to follow and usually short lived. 

“Murder,” And upon gauging Charles reaction he back tracked. “Too much?”

“Eh,” Charles said with a pinch of his fingers. “A little.”

“I’ve been, uh, framed for murder.”

That peaked Charles’s interest. Charlie stepped forward, hands already reaching out to Docs tie to pull him closer. “You’ll need a lawyer then, huh?”

Doc, whose mouth had already gone dry, nodded with a smirk. “Know any?”

“I just happen to be the best bird lawyer in South Philly.”

There. That’s really where Doc has trouble following along with Charles’s scenes. But, politely he suggested: “and the best...human...lawyer.”

“Yeah, sure.” Charlie was inches away, just teasing Doc for the sake of being cruel. 

“Mr. Kelly, I don’t think I can afford to hire you,” Doc leaned back, allowing Charles to keep his tie pulling snugly at his throat. His leg slid between his thighs and watched as Charles’s breath hitch. 

“I’m sure we could come to some sort of agreement,” Charlie added, fist twisting tightly around silk fabric.

Dennis looked over to Mac, neither sure what to do now and quickly coming to the realization of what they had just done. If he weren’t trapped, Dennis would be running. Leaving Philly and going… somewhere. As far away from Mac as possible because the cat was out of the bag. Mac seemed to be coming to the realization too as he stared back, grinning like a schoolgirl after her first kiss. Even if Dennis tried to run, Mac was gonna try and catch him.

Moans cut off Dennis’s thoughts and he peeked through the crack again; Charlie and Science Bitch were making the most of their thirty minutes. Hands quickly undoing belts with tongues competing in an intense game of tonsil tennis.

Really, there was no grace or elegance in it. Just Doc doing his best to undressed with Charlie relentlessly grinding their hips together.

Dennis felt something brush against his leg and looked down to find Mac, trying to crouch silently in the narrow stall. Dennis’s practical side told him to _stay quiet at all costs_ along with his common sense telling him to _shut that down right now!_ But his dick, who usually took charge in all situations, told him _now, hold on! Let’s see where this is going._

His common sense and practical side won out, momentarily, allowing him to slap Macs hands away as he reached for Dennis’s zipper. 

“ _What are you doing?!”_ He mouthed, jerking his head towards the door as if Mac had forgotten the show going on ten feet away.

_“Isn’t it obvious?”_ Mac spoke with a shrug and a glance.

An error code flashed in his mind as he struggled to catch up. This scenario was a fantasy come to life. Just one of the many types of sexcupades he never dared dream to imagine, let alone strive for prior to this whole Science Bitch fiasco. Out of all of Dennis Reynolds surprise sexual opportunities, this ranked pretty high on his list and part of him was giddy with excitement. Days ago he would have indulged without a second thought but, now? Well fuck, the logical smart-person side of his brain was repeating _This is Mac! Mac! Friends! Best friends! That’s all they were!_ Except, part of his smart-person brain was also telling him they weren’t just friends. Not now, not ever.

The other night, the ‘incident’ had been an accident. A slip up when his guard was down and he was at his most vulnerable. A spilled drink when drunk in the grand scheme of life. But this was a disaster of epic proportions. A dam breaking, drowning Dennis before he had a chance to hold his breath and brace for impact. There was no going back, and it almost broke Dennis to realize he didn’t want to.

Mac reached forward again, and Dennis decided he better hold his breath.

Outside the stall Charlie and Science Bitch were making a racket despite their chosen location, yet Dennis couldn’t tear his eyes away from Mac. His curiosity had shifted from two people he’d fallen in love with watching to someone he never allowed himself to even consider. Sure, his mind had certainly gone there with Mac, but something in him always stopped it. Some emotion that Dennis couldn’t place. It twisted his stomach and left him feeling… shame? He wasn’t sure that was the right word for it, but it was the closest way to describe that hollow pitted feeling each time he pictured Mac like this.

Now, he didn’t have to imagine Mac on his knees, unzipping his pants and pulling out Dennis’s cock without hesitation. And, to his shock, if differed drastically from his own guilty fantasies; Mac was not the bashful virgin needing Dennis to teach him how things were to be done. Nor was he a catholic guilt-laden disaster ready to cry at any point. Mac was confident with whatever switch had flipped and his newfound sexual freedom. To be honest it was throwing off Dennis seeing him like this.

Mac’s hand was wrapped firmly around his dick, already eagerly in a rhythm Dennis hadn’t been prepared for. To be fair, they did only have twenty minutes. It wasn’t the best he’d had, if he was being honest, but Macs unbridled enthusiasm was certainly making up for it. 

“Oh fuck! Charles! Oh, _fuck!_ ” 

Mac jumped at the scream and lost his pace, forgetting Charlie and Doc were still out there going at it like animals. Unable to help themselves, he and Dennis both peered through the gaps either side of the door.

The first thing Mac noticed was Charlie’s ass, pants gathered his knees and feet spread. Between them were Docs leather oxfords, struggling to find grip against the waxed tile floor.

The first thing Dennis noticed was the mirror.

Bent over, clutching the sinks edge, mouth open and panting vulgarities, Doc was watching his reflection as Charles fucked him mercilessly. The two of them were pink, Charlie’s sweating hands struggling to keep a firm grip of Docs hips, but was managing.

“Oh fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ Charles- Charles, _hurry up_!”

Never a fan of being told what to do, Charlie retaliated by slapping a sweaty hand firmly over Docs mouth. He had to lean forward to maintain the grasp, changing their angle sharply. Unable to hold back, Doc released a broken cry beneath Charlie’s fingers.

As always, Charlie only ever gave the barest of sounds when hyper focused on a task like this. His heavy breathing barely audible beneath Docs muffled moans.

While Dennis found the image displayed before him as exciting as it had always been, Mac was growing bored. Maybe even jealous of the attention granted to them. Without warning, while Dennis was still watching the mirror, Mac’s tongue swiped along the tip of his cock. That brought Dennis’s attention back to him. 

Now that he had it, Mac did it again. This time slower, circling around the head before trying the weight out in his mouth. Testing the waters as it were. If they had been granted more privacy and time for this, Dennis would already be instructing him on technique. As it was, he had to settle for gripping the base of his cock and a handful of Mac’s hair. Mac, unable to stop himself, let out a gasp that rivaled Docs.

Dennis glanced through the stall to ensure they hadn’t heard it and was unsurprised to see they were entirely too involved in their own activities. Yet Mac was impatient and went ahead, wrapping his mouth around his dick without any guidance. Ensuring Dennis’s attention was solely on _him._

Mac’s hands gripped tightly to Dennis’s jeans for support, looking up at Dennis with those eyes just _begging_ for praise. His mouth moved cautiously over Dennis’s length, careful to avoid teeth and perform perfectly. 

It was risky. It was fucking stupid. But Dennis couldn’t help himself.

“ _You’re so good,_ ” Dennis whispered so faintly he wasn’t even sure he’d heard it himself.

Mac picked up pace.

Outside Dennis heard the unmistakable groan of Charlie finishing, the shallow breaths as those two lovebirds were coming back down to earth. The terrifying fear that he and Mac would be heard left his heart pounding, and Mac seemingly none the wiser as he turned his head and released a soft moan with a mouthful of Dennis’s cock. 

“We need to head back,” Doc croaked, voice broken and hoarse. 

The sound of a sink filled the room and the loud, frantic use of the paper towel dispenser. Dennis wasn’t sure how long he and Mac had left, but knew their time was running out.

“Oh god, it’s so obvious,” he heard Doc muttering. 

Dennis, growing impatient, tested the grip on Macs hair, guiding him further down just the way _he_ liked it. 

“It’s fine. No one will know,” Charlie assured, another round of paper towels being torn. “How do I look?”

“Handsome. And me?”

“Hot as fuck.”

Mac apparently was listening, as evident by his eye roll. Dennis wanted to memorize that, catalog it, save it for future reference that Mac could be a fucking _brat_ during sex. Something he’d never imagined yet suddenly wanted to explore to the furthest extent. As it was, Dennis could only file the image away, mesmerized by the feel of Macs throat trying to take more than Dennis knew he could handle. The greedy little-

“Stop,” Doc warned, his voice deeper either from abuse or to tease. By the sound of the soft moans following, it was the latter.

Dennis was at his edge, desperately holding back.

“We need to head back,” Doc was warning. 

“Five more minutes?”

“No, Charles.” 

A groan, childlike in its indignation, then the sound of the bathroom door swinging open. The two shuffling out, arguing about the case as if they had not just fucked in a men’s bathroom of Philadelphia’s Historic City Hall.

Mac and Dennis held their breath for a solid minute until Mac was forced to pull away, coughing and sputtering around his own saliva. He was granted only a second, enough time for Dennis to bend over and pull on Mac’s hair, allowing their lips to meet halfway at a strange, cramped angle. Unable to stop himself, Dennis was cumming; hunched over Mac and striping his shirt with white. 

“Dennis, Dennis! Oh _God-_ “

A drop in his stomach. Dennis knew, he fucking _knew_ Mac would regret this! All these years he’d built a wall for Mac’s own sanity and now he would hate Dennis. Loathe him. Loathe himself. 

“I’m sorry, Mac I’m sorry!” Dennis didn’t know what was happening. The way he felt his heart fall through his ribs, almost able to hear it hit the tile and beat away sickened him. He was trembling, grasping Mac’s hair and hoping he could fix this. _Them._ “Don’t go, don’t go. Okay, we can fix this! I’ll go to confession with you, I’ll do whatever you need to feel forgiven just _please don’t leave me!”_

Mac’s mouth shut him up, pulling him desperately into another kiss and Dennis couldn’t help but fall on his knees beside him. “I love you! _God_ I love you Dennis, holy shit!”

Dennis could only kiss back, unable to reasonably form words. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Trembling passion turned into spent caresses, Dennis afraid to stand. To let go. Until Mac finally broke his spell. 

“You need to head back,” he warned.

Dennis, still unable to think, was lifted by Mac. Silently Mac tucked Dennis back into his pants with a cheeky smirk, then for good measure slipped his sunglasses back on for him. 

“How do I look?” A bit of a brush off and running his hand through his hair, Dennis looked mildly presentable. 

“Handsome,” Mac answered so sincerely it took him by surprise. “What about me?”

Dennis looked over Mac’s cum covered shirt, ruined hair, thoroughly abused lips, and jeans doing nothing to disguise the very prevalent bulge in them. “Hot as fuck.”

 

* * *

  

The Judge was looking at her watch, tapping her foot anxiously as the court waited for Mr. Reynolds to return.

Mr. Kelly and his boyfriend, whose name had yet to be disclosed in the proceedings, had arrived minutes ago. Clearly having been up to something for the last twenty minutes and doing a piss poor job in hiding their smirks. The Judge wasn’t sure if they were impressed by the sheer gall of their behavior, or merely amused by their stupidity in thinking no one had heard them. 

That was until Mr. Reynolds returned with a slight skip in his step. Behind him, a new member of the gallery arrived. Evidence of his activities with Mr. Reynolds hastily wiped away from the front of his shirt, though not thoroughly enough. 

These were the stories the Judge lived to tell at cocktail parties. 

“Your honor,” Dennis announced before sitting. “We have a new witness we would like to call later in the case.”

“That’s fine, Mr. Reynolds. Is everyone ready to begin? Mr. Kelly?”

Both Mr. Kelly’s nodded, the youngest adding a “Yeah, yeah, of course!”

Mr. Kelly senior stood, quickly shuffling through his notes. “Your honor, we will be calling the four main parties privy to first hand knowledge of the events leading up to my clients assault that night. These include Dennis Reynolds and Charlie Kelly, of course, Ronald ‘Mac’ Mcdonald, and as our first witness the prosecution would like to call uh… well, um… we’d like to call,” 

Jack squatted down to whisper with Dennis.

Shrugging, Dennis turned to Dee in the row behind them. Less understandable whispering ensued, Dee shaking her head. Dennis turned back to Jack, giving an unsure shrug and stating “Just go with it.”

“Uh,” Jack looked unsure but went ‘with it’. “We’d like to call Charlie’s current boyfriend…um ‘Science Bitch’ is the only name my client has written on the record.”

Doc rolled his eyes and forced himself from his seat, casually making his way to the stand with a slight limp. He held back a hiss as he shared a knowing glance with Charlie, Dennis trying to hide a smirk as he watched.

“We’d like to hear each parties account of that night. You may begin whenever you are ready,”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not gonna lie, the final chapter won’t be out anytime soon. I only have the plot outlined and haven’t even started the actual writing. Plus, it’s gonna be one hell of a narrative roller coaster. So, I’m sorry in advance. I’m a bad writer and most of these chapters are the roughest of rough drafts, what can I say?
> 
> I hope y’all had a better, more relaxing summer than I did that did NOT involve fracturing multiple itty bitty bones because you insisted on going roller skating despite knowing you 👏 could 👏 not 👏 do 👏 that 👏 or stressing about what you want to do with your life after college other than write bad homo erotic fanfics. I love y’all! 💕 Please take better care of yourselves than I do myself lol


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